Forged in Fire: An Urban Fantasy (Moonlight Dragon Book 4)

by Tricia Owens

  Of course. That was its reason for being. It was an aquatic wrecking ball.

  I spun, searching the exhibit room for Vagasso since he must be near, coordinating this attack. But the place had emptied.

  "Vale, we need to go through this place and find Dr. Morrow and—"

  "Look!" Vale suddenly shouted.

  Out in the tank, at least ten sharks had begun attacking Dr. Morrow's creation. They accelerated toward its odd, lumpy body with a speed that shocked me after watching their leisurely gliding just a half hour earlier. With their razor teeth they tore off chunks of the monster's flesh. They ripped away clumps of green hair that clogged the water before rising to the choppy surface. Bits of bitten off tentacles wiggled as though still animated by life. Green blood oozed into the water like spilled squid ink.

  But the shark attacks did little to slow down the monster's efforts. Still using its flat fins to provide stabilization in the violently rocking water, it continued to beat at the floor with its thick, purple-gray claw, rattling the floor beneath my feet. Its black eyes filmed over each time a shark attacked it and the creature bared its own hinge of picket-row teeth, occasionally snapping at a passing shark. It finally caught one by the tail and gulped it down its gullet in two gulps. The shark didn't slide into its stomach, however. A swollen vent opened midway down the monster's body and a mist of blood, ground up flesh, and pulped skin exploded into the water of the tank. It was as though someone had thrown the shark into a wood chipper. I nearly gagged.

  I had to turn away from the SeaWorld horror show and run to the acrylic tunnel. Sure enough, Christian stood braced with his palms against the walls, concentrating fiercely on the scene just beyond him.

  "Go, Christian," I breathed, making sure I didn't distract him. For so long I'd questioned what assistance he could provide against Vagasso and here he'd become essential.

  With his brow knitted and his jaw clenched, he spoke telepathically to the sharks in the tank, coaxing them to attack the monster in their midst. He requested help from other sea life as well. Sawfish with their long, serrated noses, cut at the monster's tentacles, slicing them off like noodles. Sea turtles snapped at the translucent, gel-like flesh of the creature. The monster was besieged, but only in tiny increments. This was looking to be a war of attrition, with Christian's aquatic friends pecking away at Dr. Morrow's creation until it fell apart. But that would take too long. Sand muddied the water but I could tell from the change in tenor as the monster struck the floor that it had broken through the bottom of the tank.

  "Moody!"

  Vale's warning was too late. Magick punched me in the chest, lifting me off my feet and hurling me out of the mouth of the tunnel and to the back wall of the shipwreck room. I groaned as I slid to the floor, but I managed to open my eyes and watch as Vale's gargoyle flew at the dark figure that entered from the temple room.

  "I know you," Vagasso said calmly. I cried out as he magickally smacked Vale's gargoyle out of the air and to the stone floor. The stunned gargoyle flapped its wings helplessly. As I struggled to my feet, Vagasso stepped up to the fallen gargoyle and squatted before it. "Hello, Your Highness. We've never met, but I knew your brother. I didn't like him, either. I think you should share his fate so you'll stop being a nuisance to me."

  "Leave my boyfriend alone," I snarled. I called up Lucky as a golden fury, filling up the shipwreck with near blinding light.

  "That's far too bright for my tastes," Vagasso said mildly and suddenly the room was blanketed with darkness as though someone had filled it with black powder.

  I grew Lucky, but it was a repeat of what had happened the first time I tried to fight the Oddsmakers, only without the mystery curtains and albino vampires. Lucky was swallowed by the darkness as though he'd never existed. The blackness was never ending, reaching into my skull. It was terrifying, like I'd gone blind or lost consciousness.

  "First I'll tear the limbs from your gargoyle prince. Then I'll deep fry your fish friend," Vagasso told me with malicious glee.

  I lost it.

  I jumped with both feet into my dragon. I was wild with the urge to fight and I didn't try to contain my dragon impulse at all. I roared like the king of the jungle and flamethrowered fire that cut through the inky cloud, shredding it like cotton. As the blackness dissolved, I saw that Vagasso was no longer in the room. Only Vale's gargoyle remained, struggling to its feet, obviously injured.

  Moody…the tank.

  I turned and saw that the water was draining out of the shark exhibit, the level only half as high as it had been, revealing a ravished plastic and foam reef. What water remained was thick with fish bodies, body parts, hair, and gore.

  The top half of Dr. Morrow's monster appeared to be drying out where it was exposed to the air, its gelatinous skin shriveling much as Christian's had when he'd been staked out in the sun. That didn't stop the creature from continuing to pound away at the broken floor.

  With the water level so low, I could see above the tank where catwalks and stages for feeding the sea life had been knocked askew or dented too dangerously for people to stand on them. That was good, for the violence of the monster had driven away the aquarium's workers and trainers. I didn't have to worry about witnesses or collateral damage as I kicked some monster butt.

  Christian was no longer in the acrylic tunnel, so I worried for him, but I couldn't spend the time looking for him. I had to stop this monster first.

  I threw myself against the nearest window of the shipwreck. It was thick glass, meant to hold back a million gallons of seawater, so it didn't crack easily. But neither did I. I flew a circle around the room and rammed the glass again. And again. Circling around and battering at the glass with huge booming sounds.

  Boom!

  Boom!

  The glass spidered on the fourth hit. I roared with triumph and bashed the window even harder. It finally cracked. The next smash knocked the glass into the tank and water poured into the room, flooding it before rushing through the doorways and into the rest of the facility. Vale's gargoyle flew through the tunnel, hopefully to find Christian.

  I focused on Dr. Morrow's heaving nightmare.

  The sand in the bottom of the tank had followed the water and poured mostly out into the depths of the foundation. The monster's huge crab claw had pulverized the concrete below and was working its way through to the sand beneath, tearing up pipes and wiring along the way.

  I blasted fire at the creature, expecting it to melt like a giant blob of Jell-O.

  Apparently it was non-flammable, because not only did it not melt, the monster's skin appeared to crust over and harden where my fire had touched it, forming armor-like sheets of scabbing. It also completely ignored me, which infuriated my dragon.

  I was dragon of doom, dragon of destruction and this lump of flotsam and jetsam was going to respect me!

  I blasted more fire, filling up the tank so the flames roiled and boiled and exploded up toward the ceiling of the aquarium. I engulfed the monster with so much fire that it was only a mere shadow amidst the blazing yellows, reds, and golds.

  Still the monster continued to pound down into the ground with piston-like determination. I felt the difference when its claw struck sand, the sudden muting of its strikes.

  I wasn't about to let it go any farther. I crashed through the remains of the window and into the tank. Smashed up against the monster, I sank my fearsome fangs into it, crushing the armored scabs and piercing soft flesh beneath. The monster didn't make a sound.

  That was why I could hear the vibration.

  It started as a low rumble beneath my tiger paws and grew rapidly into a full vibration that made my scales tingle and jarred my bones and filled the air with an insect-like buzz. I kept biting the monster, hoping to stop the sound.

  My tiny dragon brain finally figured it out: the vibration came from beneath us.

  Dr. Morrow's monster had unearthed the capstone, baring it to the air. Uncertain what to do, seeing sand and recalling ho
w I'd turned silica to glass out in the Valley of Fire as a child, I released my bite on the monster, turned my head, and blasted fire down into the hole that it had dug.

  Too late, I saw the capstone itself and the dragon head with its ruby eye carved into its face. My fire struck the dragon head and the seal blazed purple. The explosion blasted my body into the ceiling. By the time I fell to the bottom of the tank again, the damage had already been done.

  A massive crack appeared in the ground beneath me and began to spread north.

  I had done the Oddsmakers' dirty work for them. My dragon had opened the gateway to Hell.

  chapter 10

  I pushed back into the shipwreck and from there turned and engulfed the tank and Dr. Morrow's monster in fire. I transformed the tank into a crematorium, cranking up the heat until the walls melted and the remaining water evaporated in great sheets of steam. Not even that plated monstrosity could withstand the incinerating temperatures. The creature began to smolder and then to blacken. It collapsed and finally burned.

  Like the doctor's other creation, it didn't make a sound as all evidence of its existence turned to unidentifiable ash. It simply gave up, and I had to re-run Vale's assurance through my head that I was doing this creation a favor by putting it out of its misery.

  As soon as it was gone, I made the leap back into my human body because my dragon brain wasn't going to cut it. Tearing free of my dragon was like ripping duct tape off my lips or maybe getting a Brazilian wax, but the agony was short-lived.

  In contrast, what Las Vegas now faced could be eternal.

  Still wincing at the pain of separation, I stumbled through the acrylic tube and into the adjacent gift shop. The ground shook and trembled continuously as though a contingent of tanks drove just outside. Stuffed sharks and fish tumbled off the shelves, joining other toys and novelty items that lay scattered across the floor. I pushed out through the door and into the casino and was instantly greeted with a scene of pandemonium.

  Not much could get gamblers to leave their slot machines and gaming tables, but apparently an enormous earthquake and a growing crack in the ground could do it. People ran this way and that, screaming, confused about which way to go as the walls and ground shook and slot machines began to fall into the widening gap in the floor. Signs sparked and fell off the ceiling and walls. Gaming chips rolled across the carpet, now useless while this madness was occurring.

  I'd opened the Rift. I'd been tricked. I'd been so arrogant in believing I could predict the Oddsmakers actions, but they'd been leading me by the nose the entire time, telling me not to go after the capstone, knowing I would insist on doing the opposite. And Vagasso poking me, too, infuriating me and driving me into a frenzy of hatred for him so that I did what they wanted me to: breathed dragon fire on a capstone that could only be activated by a dragon.

  My mother had avoided this. So had Uncle James. But I'd been the sucker. Mastering my dragon hadn't been my strength; it had made me vulnerable to being used like this. I'd fallen for the scam hook, line, and sinker. And now the world would be overrun by demons. Because of me. Maybe Xaran could have stopped me had he been here and seen where all this was heading. But I'd cleverly "killed" him.

  I was such a fool.

  Despair made me sweat. Fear pushed me through the throngs of terrified, confused people, searching desperately for signs of Vale or Christian. The casino floor was huge. It would be like searching Disneyland for a specific child. Eventually I gave up hope of finding them here and ran past the ballrooms and restaurants to the front of the casino and one of the exits which was clogged with terrified guests.

  I had to fight my way out the glass doors but escape provided only a temporary relief. I say temporary, because although I was out of the screaming and dangerous press of panicked bodies and falling signage, the view outside made my insides shrivel with terror.

  The Rift glowed. Had this occurred during the day it wouldn't have been so dramatic, but against the darkness there was no doubt that something burned within the enormous crack that had splintered up the center of Las Vegas Boulevard. And what a split. It ran up the southbound lane, as wide as five feet in some places and growing wider with each shiver of the ground. A couple of cars and taxis had fallen into the chasm and were at risk of disappearing completely inside. Thankfully the drivers and passengers were climbing out of the vehicles on their own or with the assistance of bystanders.

  The palm trees running up the center dividers of the boulevard shivered and shook. Some teetered sideways as the foundation gave way beneath them, crushing car roofs. Windows shattered in businesses, including much of the black slanted glass in Luxor. The Egyptian themed pyramidal building looked like the victim of a mugging with its jagged, gaping holes through which smoke was rising.

  Farther up the Strip, where casinos bracketed either side of the street, the damage would be much worse.

  I ran across the parking lot, weaving between sprinting guests and panicking drivers.

  "Vale!" I cried out. My knees nearly buckled with relief when I saw him and Christian slumped over the back of Christian's Audi.

  He spun around at my cry but immediately winced and curled over himself, one hip braced against the trunk. Christian, looking sickly and with his hair mussed wildly, helped support him with an arm around his shoulders.

  "Oh, god, I didn't know where you were!" I blurted when I reached them. I squeezed Christian's arm but then quickly bent over to try to get a look at Vale's face. "Where are you hurt?"

  "Ribs," he panted. "At least two are broken." He forced himself to straighten up despite how much pain he was in. "What about you?"

  It sickened me to admit, "I'm fine." My eyes filled with tears. "I opened the Rift. My dragon activated the seal. This is all my fault!"

  "No, none of us could have predicted this," Vale said savagely. I had never seen him look so furious, and I was glad his fury wasn't aimed at me. "Without knowing more about the capstone this was inevitable."

  "They played us good," Christian said hollowly. His expression was haunted. I bet he would never forget what he'd seen in that tank and how he'd influenced the sea life to attack it. "I saw Vagasso leaving after you cleared the room of that blackness, Anne, and he slapped me to the floor like I was a little bitch." His gaze shimmered. "He told me I was just like my father: completely useless and too dumb to live. The demons would have a field day with me, he said. That was why he chose not to kill me."

  I rubbed my mouth, afraid I was going to throw up. "I'm going to destroy him, Christian. I promise you."

  "You're the only one who can," he agreed, looking nothing like the handsome, carefree guy who'd first entered my shop with Vale's statue.

  And that was a problem: his faith in me. My dragon had so far proved to be a huge bust. All I'd succeeded in using it for was to set us on a collision course with the end of the world. I didn't know what the hell I was doing and that was literally going to kill us.

  "We need help," I stated. I stabbed a hand through the tangled nest on my head. "Where are all the magickal beings in this city? Why aren't they doing something?"

  "Aren't they?"

  Vale pointed out past the Strip, where lightning bolts zapped through the sky, colored pinks and oranges like no lightning in nature. I traced them back to two women who were crouched behind a car. With their arms they tried to direct their magickal strikes at dark, four-legged creatures that raced down the street. I couldn't make out what they were, only that they weren't human. Had demons come up through the Rift already? I didn't think so. Something else stalked Las Vegas. Awesome.

  I saw the bushy head of a palm tree begin to topple on a screaming crowd but then twist in midair and fall against a building instead. Amidst the tourists running pell-mell on Tropicana Avenue stood an elderly man, fingers pressed to his temples. When the Merlin statue inside the Excalibur sign tumbled out of its perch, heading on a deadly collision course with the cars below, the elderly man jerked. At the last second the Me
rlin statue went spinning safely to the side, smashing against empty pavement.

  Farther north, half a dozen teenagers stood holding hands in front of the New York, New York Casino. They could have been mistaken for a prayer circle except ice radiated out from beneath their feet, crusting over Las Vegas Boulevard and racing alongside the Rift. But despite the thickness of the magick ice, it melted where it drew within a couple of feet of the crack. The heat coming up from below was simply too intense. The ice turned to water and funneled down the street or instantly vaporized when it neared the Rift, sending up great, billowing clouds of steam that created an even spookier atmosphere.

  Magickal beings were out there, alright, and they were trying to make a difference. But this was too much for them. It was too much for everyone.

  Or was it?

  "The seals," I said, wide-eyed. "Vagasso and the Oddsmakers still have to push the nine seals to fail. We need to get to the ones they haven't reached yet and defend them. Maybe that'll be enough to keep the Rift from blowing open completely."

  "I'll drive us." Christian hurried to climb behind the wheel while I helped Vale into the backseat. Vale groaned and clenched his jaw. I suspected he'd broken more than a couple of ribs, but we couldn't take the time to tend to his injuries and he would have been angry if I'd tried. Once he was settled, I jumped into the passenger seat.

  "Hang on," Christian warned, white-faced. "It's going to be hairy." He tore out of the lot, skillfully dodging the running tourists and falling palm trees.

  "Keep away from the edge," I urged as we followed along the seam of the Rift. "It looks like it's as hot as a volcano inside."

  Indeed, the street was flooding thanks to the teenagers trying to freeze the Rift and failing. Christian's Audi hydroplaned a couple of times, nearly sending us careening into the cars that people had either abandoned or pulled onto the sidewalks in an effort to gain distance from the Rift.