by Julia Mills
Thankful for the scales covering his face to hide his embarrassment, J.D. snickered, “Nope, that was all me. I’m just that good.” Getting to his feet, a flash of light had him spinning to the left.
Whooshing past his ears, his wings flew forward, their talons extended as far as they could go. With no further provocation, a deep rumbling growl crawled from his chest, vibrating his whole body and accompanying Dax’s angry trumpet.
Eyes trained on the farthest ridge, he stood at the ready, waiting for their ‘host’ to appear. Black clouds, dense and ominous gathered above the highest peak. Bolts of lightning and streaks of fire bombarded the earth creating thick plumes of smoke and haze.
Out of the miasma, outlined by fiery currents, rose a tall, dark figure. Blanketing the valley below, his shadow overtook any and all light. The antithesis of good, slimy, malevolent tendrils snaked down the mountainside, across the smoldering, blood-soaked ground, in search any and all who opposed it.
Opening his arms wide, a bright red light burst from a huge Dragon scale shaped gem in the center of his chest. Refusing to look away, J.D. searched the landscape, seeking a way to set a trap for their attacker.
Looking to Dax, his heart stuttered and his breath froze in his lungs as he took in the look of mystified horror dancing in her eyes. One word floated from her mind to his, “Aganunitsi.”
“Who is…”
“Nearly right, my Atsilv Soquili.” The booming lisp, like the hiss of a snake, slashed through their minds. “Aganunitsi is but bones in the earth. I am the Seventh Son of the Seventh Tsalagi Medicine Man. My name is Huacaltzintli. I am raised from the ashes to claim what is rightfully mine.”
Slamming his mental shields into place, J.D. turned to Dax just as she snapped out of her stupor. Swinging her head towards him, she nudged his shoulder with her muzzle then snapped her head backwards in two quick movements.
Walking backward, mirroring her movements, eyes trained on the boogey man on the ridge, he listened carefully as she explained, “It all just clicked. I should’ve known Fate was kickin’ us both in the ass when I heard what she said. But, I was sure Bryn was messin’ with me. Then…”
Her words were overshadowed by the thundering roar of the bastard on the mountain. “You will not win Atsilv Soquili. You and your Dragon Warrior can try, but the victory belongs to me. It is my due. Centuries of waiting. Festering under the earth. Made to cradle the Seventh Scale, bathe it in my own life’s essence, listen to the tired ramblings of Aganunitsi’s spirit, I discovered my true purpose – the true purpose of this magical gift your ancestors forced mine to squander.”
A single second pause and the messed up Medicine Man returned from the dead added with immense pride and true satisfaction, “We were meant to rule all Tribal Nations. Not just those of your ancestors, but every man, woman, child, and beast alive will bow at our feet and beg for our mercy.”
Silence, vast and deafening, filled the valley as the couple moved farther into the cavern. J.D. had heard the tale of Aganunitsi more times than he could remember. It was one of his granddad’s favorites. But the raving maniac bellowing like a loon had warped the legend of goodness and hope into a horror story and somehow had pointed his rage at her and Dax.
How could that horror show threatening the entire world be an ancestor of the greatest Medicine Man ever to live? The person responsible for killing the Uktena – a snakelike creature that threatened an entire Nation would never let such a thing happen.
Aganunitsi had save the Seventh Scale as a reminder to all who would dare threaten the Nations. He and his ancestors kept it alive to protect – not to harm. Something somewhere had gone haywire and J.D. was going to get the bottom of it – come hell or high water.
Repeating what she’d said as he listened to her racing thoughts, Dax went on, “Bryn got all freaky, sounded like some kinda bad imitation of Vincent Price and said something about the Horse of Fire and the Scaled Warrior.” She huffed, making the short hairs at the top of her mane lift and fall. “I seriously thought she was bein’ a brat ‘cause I took the road trip by myself.”
“Can you remember exactly what she said? Word for word?”
“No, but you can have a look.” He felt her mental blocks fall open and watched as her memory of the phone call just before he found her replayed in her mind. Listening intently to every word, he was just about to speak when another, more recent, but nonetheless just as eerie, memory began.
Witnessing himself, or the dream version of himself as it were, beating the living crap out of an exact duplicate of the maniac on the ridge, J.D. knew it somehow fit together with what he’d been experiencing before the appearance of Dax’s consciousness. With the words - The Horse of Fire shall meet the Scaled Warrior. Only the joining of their flames can stop the Crystal of Aganunitsi. The time is at hand. Blood will be shed. The Unktena must be bathed in fire. – running on a continuous loop through his mind, he asserted, “Stay here. This silence can’t be good and,” he turned his eyes towards her, “Dragons do not run and hide from trouble.”
Stalking forward, knowing full well that Dax was right behind him, he fought hard not to smile as she snipped, “Well, la-dee-frikkin’-da Mr. Big, Bad Dragon Ass. You think Fire Horses are wimps?”
Feeling her anger fueling her fire, her rage working to a full burn, J.D. did let just the corner of his mouth raise. Pissed off and ready to fight was where he wanted his mate to be. Worried for his well-being was sweet, but it wouldn’t do either of them any good in battle.
Walking out from behind the blood-soaked boulder at the side of the entrance, he roared, “Bring it on, Asshole.”
“And I thought I was the one with impulse control issues,” Dax’s sarcastic snark was exactly what he needed to hear. It spoke to both man and Dragon, an affirmation of what he had always been told and wholeheartedly believed – it was his job to protect his mate, come what may. Nothing and no one would ever touch Dakota as long as he drew breath.
Stepping out farther, marching to the center of the valley, he turned to face the reincarnated machination of one of the greatest Wonder-workers, Fortune-tellers, and Medicine Men the Cherokee Nation had ever known. Watching the bastard once again fling his arms wide, J.D. refused to back down as one after another after another, images of Medicine Men, presumably of Aganunitsi’s lineage, appeared across the ridge.
A grating cackle rebounded off the rocks. “What say you now, Dragon?”
“Fuck you and your ancestors. The day belongs to the Unktena.”
Chapter Nine
Praying he had a plan. Knowing in her heart he wouldn’t taunt a thousand-and-the-Great-Creator-only-knew-how-many-year-old Zombie Medicine Man – At least I think it’s a Zombie. Maybe he’s a ghost? Guess it doesn’t matter. Bastard’s gotta die. – without a plan, Dax trotted out with her head held high and her eye staring at their opponent. Taking her place next to her mate, she kept her head pointed forward as she spoke directly into J.D.’s mind, “And, you were thinking he would attack first?”
“Just wait. I have a plan.”
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m so good at the patience thing,” she grumbled.
Thankful he ignored her snotty comment, she hoped she was hiding her shock as he deliberately, with so much malice and fury in his voice that the hairs up and down her spine stood on end, shouted, “What’s the matter? Never been challenged before? Scared of a fair fight? Used to sneaking in, killin’ and destroyin’ then disappearin’ like the spineless cowards you are?”
Shards of fire, blasts of power, and sparks of noxious magic crashed to the ground all around them, but J.D. stood tall, moving slightly in front of her, absorbing the black magic with his impenetrable scales. Snapping his fist in the air, a long, deadly sword, crafted from his own scales appeared in his hand. Motioning for her to come forward, Dax felt the tingle of powerful Dragon magic erect a shield around her as he held the blade between them.
“Is that all you’ve got? Parlor tricks and cheap illu
sions? Have you never faced a Dragon before, Huacaltzintli? Are you scared?”
“Scared? Of the likes of you?” The Medicine Man screeched. The rattling, hissing snake that grew from the very center of his forehead weaved back and forth, spewing venom that popped and crackled on Huacaltzintli’s shoulders and chest.
“Words are cheap.” Raising his hand, winding up like he was pitching a no-hitter in the World Series, J.D. thrust his arm forward, opening his hand at just the perfect moment and flinging a smoldering mass of fire at the leader of the undead freaks.
Countering her Dragon’s bomb with snaps of electricity and whipping ribbons of fire, the Medicine Men stood fast on the ridge. What were they waiting for? Did they think they were safe up there? Were they stupid enough to think J.D. wouldn’t climb across every damned rock on that mountain for the opportunity to rip their shriveled hearts from their chests?
“Time’s up, you sniveling coward.” With every word, J.D.’s speech grew deeper, more deadly…more animalistic. His shoulders grew wider, and his biceps larger as the tips of his wings went from being curved into the sides of his waist to elongating, their deadly talons dripping with venom.
Brilliant bronze with a touch of gold, a heavy crimson formed a vein down the center of his scales, trickling out to the edges, creating a stained-glass effect that glowed in the oppressive atmosphere. Keeping her mind open to his, she knew the moment his Dragon King shoved his massive payload of power into her mate.
Fire shot from his fingertips, calling to her Fire Horse, demanding she take heed and join the fight. Mirroring her mate’s movements, she breathed in the smoke and fire, let the scent of blood and gore enrage her alter ego then relaxed into the change. Flames raced through her veins and a dark red hue fell over the landscape as the sensation of wings growing from her shoulders, ripping through her coat and extending skyward exhilarated both woman and Fire Horse.
Instantaneously, she swung her head from side-to-side, smiling so wide that she flashed the razor-sharp incisors and canines of her Battle Horse at the row of Medicine Men preparing to attack. Stopping next to J.D., feeling the last of her transformation at its end, she announced her presence with a low, rumbling trumpet that grew into a roar, assuring their adversaries that she could and most definitely would fight beside her mate.
The feel of J.D.’s huge, taloned paw on her withers, his thick, scaled fingers tangling in her mane, sent a shiver of excitement through her body. The sensation of her Battle Horse joining with his Warrior Dragon was nothing short of mind-blowing.
Explosions, like firebombs raced through her system, fed her desire to protect not only her home and family but her mate. Every cell in her body ignited into a bright fiery rage. Opening her heart and soul wider than she ever knew possible, she welcomed their union as she felt J.D. do the same.
“Ready, mo chapall álainn?” His voice shook the confines of her mind.
“You know it. Time to kick ass and I don’t give a shit about takin’ names.”
Chapter Ten
Watching his mate out of the corner of his eye, J.D. couldn’t believe how stunning she was in the form of her Battle Horse. Her reddish-brown coat had turned a glossy midnight black, reminding him of a starless sky. Fire ripped and tore through her hide, seeking the vengeance it was created to bestow.
Wild, flying about her head and neck like flaming silk her mane haloed her magnificent countenance, assuring all who’d ever witnessed her splendor that beauty was in no way a weakness. Rearing back on her hind legs, she once again waved her front paws, but this time fire flew from her hooves accompanied with deadly bolts of lightning and spectacular mysticism.
Lifting his sword at the same time that he raised his opposite hand from her coat, J.D. roared the battle cry his granddad Cheveyo had repeated to all his grandsons from the day they were old enough to speak, “Yutta-hey!”
“Today’s a good day to die?” Dax’s shriek cut through the frenzy of his mind. “Did you seriously just tell those bat-shit crazy Medicine Men Zombies that today is a good day to die?”
Unable to answer or show emotion as he charged into battle, J.D. let the love and respect growing within his heart for her fill their mating bond. There was absolutely no doubt Dakota had been created just for him – she was absolutely everything he’d ever hoped for and so very much more.
Reaching the bottom of the mountain and realizing Huacaltzintli and his army were standing strong, he spread his wings, signaling with a single thought that Dax should do the same. A single mighty push against the seething, fetid air and J.D.’s feet left the ground.
Flying high above his enemies’ heads, he held their rapt attention. Turning in midair, he dropped his stubbed snout, opened his vice-like jaws, and expelled a thick, gray cloud of noxious gas his Celtic ancestors called, gluasaid de ghluasad – fumes of revulsion. Grinning to himself as the Medicine Men finally began to move, J.D. completed his dive amid the coughing and gagging undead.
No sooner had his giant feet touched the ground than Dax landed on the opposite side of the ridge. Swinging his fiery broadsword, decapitating any and all in his path, he reveled in the feel of their caustic black blood coating his scales. Again and again, he struck down the Medicine Men only to look up and find more of them charging towards him.
“Making any headway?” He snarled into his mate’s mind.
“No!” Came her instant and adamant reply. “These bastards are like roaches, there’s a fuck-ton of them and they piss me off.”
Glancing up, he watched for a split second as Dax once again reared onto her back feet. Poetry in motion, he would always think of her as ‘beautiful destruction’ as streaks of bright red lightning flew from her front feet.
Pushing herself forward, landing with a resounding thud, he continued to watch her as he spun, dove, and sliced his way through the sea of undead. Cheering when she used her long elegant wings as a sword, slicing through the Medicine Men as if they were no more than wet paper then moving to the next before the bodies had hit the ground, J.D. was in awe of her prowess.
Reaching the apex, still battling the never-ending sea of grotesque, now decomposing, rotting Medicine Men, he looked for Huacaltzintli. Something in the back of J.D.’s mind, the little voice that always saved his ass in one way or another, was telling him the only way to end the unceasing reincarnation of the undead was to rip the asshole’s head from his shoulders.
Continuing the tedious task of wading through the decaying bodies as he added to the piles, J.D. extended his wings, again giving a single push before raising into the air. Sure that Dax could handle herself, he continued to monitor her progress while soaring just above the flames. Looking for the abomination of hate and black magic responsible for the alternate dimension he and his mate were fighting to destroy, the Dragon knew Huacaltzintli couldn’t have gotten far.
He hasn’t yet amassed the power to force this world into ours.
The thought had barely crossed his mind when shots rang out to the east. Lowering his left wing, J.D. glided towards the sound at the precise moment pieces of glowing metal and fiery granite struck the scales covering his torso.
Following their trajectory, he touched down nearly three-hundred yards from the origin of the shots. Curling the tips of his wings back into his waist, letting the claw-covered edges lead the way, he cut through the burnt remains of trees and brush.
Stopping mid-stride as the sound of rhythmic chanting reached his ears, J.D. pushed his enhanced senses as far as they would go. Scenting the blood of not only a Wolf but also an Eagle – sacred animals that were never to be killed – Pwyll snarled, pushing against the confines of J.D.’s mind.
“I know, Old Man. The bastard’s bating us.”
Camouflaging himself with a cloak of the Dragon King’s magic, J.D. moved forward. Deciphering the chant, his blood ran cold as he recognized the words ‘righteous blood’, ‘Chief of the lands’, and ‘heart of the Tribe’.
Granddad
The
word burst into his mind followed by the gravelly voice of Cheveyo Thorntree. “Do not come any farther, Uwetsi. Huacaltzintli has hidden this place from the Great Spirit. He is using the magic of the Devil to conjure the Lake of Fire on this plane.”
“I can’t…won’t leave you,” J.D. retaliated.
“You can and you will. It is my final word.”
“And, no is mine.” Calling to Dax, he shared his sight. “Do you see this? Huacaltzintli is going to use my granddad as a sacrifice to raise Hell on Earth. I have to stop him.”
“WE have to stop him, Cowboy,” she corrected. “And this time, I have a plan.”
Chapter Eleven
“No, Dax! I said…”
“You said a whole lotta dumb shit, that what’s you said.” Not giving her cantankerous mate a chance to butt in, she hurried on while spreading her wings and lifting herself into the sky. Following the trail of her Dragon’s magic, she went on, “Those pieces of rot and bone were a distraction and I should’ve seen it sooner. Husi-what’s-his-face played me for a fool, but he won’t get another chance. Something dawned on me right before you decided to be stupid.” She could feel his anger at her rash decision and simply ignored it. He would damn good and well listen to her or their relationship would start with one humdinger of a fight.
“When Brynn went all Creepy Witch on me, she said ‘The Unktena must be bathed in fire.’” She paused for a split-second as her hooves touched down. “She wasn’t talking about bad fire, she was talking about our fire – the combination of Battle Horse and Warrior Dragon.”
With his irritation at her waning, she could hear his thoughts of exactly what they could do to join their fires just before he answered, “I believe you’re right.”
