Dragon Game

by Alicia Wolfe

  DRAGON GAME

  Reclaiming the Fire #3

  by Alicia Wolfe

  Copyright 2018

  All rights reserved

  Cover image used with permission

  Chapter 1

  I smelled demon as soon as I passed through the door. The subtly acrid, bitter scent teased at my nose and sent a shiver of dread down my spine.

  Suck it up, Jade, I told myself. After all, it wasn’t like this was a surprise. I had just knowingly walked into a demonic lair. Was it too late to rethink my choice of career?

  The receptionist brightened artificially. “May I help you, miss?”

  A pretty young woman, she sat behind a plain metal desk. Behind her a bead curtain provided the only portal through a blank white wall into the chambers beyond. Even now there could be someone dying back there. The sign on the wall read MARA’S MASSAGES.

  I put on my game face. “I’m Sally Jenson,” I said, stepping to the desk. “Avon Regional Salesperson of the Month.”

  The receptionist’s eyes jerked up and down my length, noting my conservative skirt and jacket with a slightly flashy blouse underneath, a metallic purple color that matched my pumps and the highlights in my wavy black hair.

  “Good for you,” she said. “But we’re not buying.”

  I put on a condescending smile. “If you’ll forgive me, I should talk to your manager or proprietor. Is Mara in?”

  The receptionist’s eyes narrowed. I sniffed, trying to decide if she was human or not. She didn’t smell demonic, but I couldn’t tell for sure. The demon smell permeating the air may have been masking something else.

  “We don’t deal with solicitors,” she said.

  I put on my best let’s-be-real expression. In a less arrogant voice, I said, “I’ll be honest, I know what this place is. And trust me, I have just the products the girls here need. I specialize in the unique requirements of ladies of the night. How do you think I got to be Regional Salesperson of the Month?”

  “By selling makeup to whores?”

  “It’s a surprisingly booming market. Someone has to cater to it.”

  Sighing, she pushed a button on her desk phone. “Ma’am, there’s a visitor here for you.”

  A moment passed, then a voice replied, “I’ll send for her.”

  “You can wait over there,” the receptionist told me, pointing to some empty chairs along the wall.

  Before I could reach a seat, the door chimed and a man strode in—my partner Davril. That is, Lord Davril Stormguard of the Fae Queen’s Court, former king, current Fae Knight and all-around badass. His short, slightly curly blond hair flashed as his steel-blue eyes swept the room. He pretended not to notice me but went straight to the receptionist.

  She watched him approach, a smile on her lips. He had dimmed his inner light and wore his street clothes—jeans, a tight blue T-shirt under a brown leather jacket. His T-shirt stretched across his abs as he walked.

  “I’d like a date,” he said.

  “A hunk like you doesn’t need to pay for it.”

  “I don’t like to waste my time. I like to get right down to business.”

  If only that were true, I thought.

  The receptionist named a dollar figure, he agreed, and she showed him into the backroom. When she returned, I pretended to browse through the collection of skin magazines. Shortly a young woman in a red sequined dress slit high up the side emerged from the bead curtain and approached me.

  “You wish to see the madam?”

  “Absolutely!” I sprang to my feet, clutching my briefcase of supposed samples.

  “You’ll have to leave that here, I’m afraid. Madam won’t allow any briefcases in the back.”

  I nodded and placed the case on a chair. There went most of my weapons.

  “This way,” said the woman, or whatever she was. The whole place stank of demon, but the odor seemed stronger near her. She might look like a human, but she was probably something else. It was with grave misgivings that I followed her through the curtain and into the back.

  Grunts and gasps surrounded me, coming through thin walls, and the smell of sex hit me like a shovel. My pulse spiked, and it suddenly grew hot. Was Davril already in a room? Just how was he going to deal with his, er, masseuse?

  We hadn’t gone over that particular bit of the plan, I realized belatedly. You’d better not get too far into your role, Dav.

  “In here,” said the woman in the red dress, ushering me into a small office with cheap walls and a cheaper desk. This whole place was just as rundown and mediocre as I’d known it would be after having staked it out for two weeks. Still, I couldn’t help but feel that a den of deadly succubi, a place of sex and murder and the demonic, should be a bit more, well, atmospheric.

  The madam sprawled behind her desk in an armchair, the only thing vaguely luxurious about this whole place. I recognized her immediately—petite, black-haired, with lively blue eyes and a pouty red mouth. She wore a black mini-dress with black sequins to go with her hair.

  “Avon calling?” she purred.

  I wanted to punch her in that pouty mouth. Just how many men’s souls had she slurped down past those lips?

  “That’s right,” I said brightly. “I specialize in just your trade. In fact, I—”

  A horrible scream sounded to my right, coming through the thin walls. I froze, my heart almost stopping. For a moment I thought the voice was Davril’s, but no, he’d been a few rooms down, and his voice was deeper. But still, I knew what that scream must mean. A man was getting his soul ripped out.

  I spun to the door.

  The woman in the red dress had come in after me, and she blocked it off. I socked her in the jaw. I’m half shifter, even if I can no longer shift, and I’m stronger and faster than a normal human.

  She, however, was a demon. She rebounded immediately and launched herself at me. Her arms stretched out and her hands transformed into talons. Her face elongated, and her mouth bristled with awful fangs.

  I stumbled backward. My butt hit the desk.

  The madam’s hands, now talons too, clamped my arms to my side.

  The succubus in red flew at me, shrieking hideously. Dredging up the training I’d been receiving over the last few months, I waited for her to come close, then opened my legs, snapped them closed around her, seizing her around the middle. With a grunt, I threw her to the side, and she smashed into a wall.

  The movement and the weight dislodged me from the madam’s grip. I sprang to my feet and whirled to face her. From a nearby room came grunts and Fae swears. Davril must be battling the demon that had been about to give him a massage.

  “Bitch!” the madam said to me. Her eyes glowed red, and spittle sprayed past her fangs. She’s been petite and pretty a few seconds ago, but those had been a long few seconds. I mean, sheesh. Veins bulged in her face, and she stank of sulfur.

  “Thought you could trap me?” I said, coiling myself for battle. I wished I’d been able to bring my weapons in.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

  Interesting. That must mean the scream I’d heard was unplanned. A succubus had just gotten carried away, right when I’d been about to give my sales pitch. Oh well. Saved me the trouble. I wasn’t much of a salesperson, anyway.

  “Who are you?” the madam hissed.

  “I’m a Fae Knight, and you’re under arrest on the order of the Queen.” I relished the words. They were the first time I’d ever said them aloud. On the other hand, it felt really weird to be arresting someone. Me, a semi-reformed cat burglar.

  Mara, if that was her name, sneered. “You’re no Fae.”

  Banging noises erupted to my right. Davril must have dealt with the succubus he’d been given and now he was moving agai
nst the one who had killed or tried to kill the man who’d screamed. Maybe the man could be saved. He was a pig, sure, but he didn’t deserve to die because of it.

  “It’s honorary,” I said, and started to jump across the room at the madam.

  The succubus in the red dress had recovered, though. She latched onto my ankle. I growled and kicked her in the face. She slumped back. By then the madam was already descending on me, talons outstretched to wrap around my throat. Her body met mine and toppled me to the floor. I punched her in the ribs, then the face. Her talons wrapped around my throat and squeezed.

  “I would drink your soul,” she said. “But I only do men. Sorry, hon.”

  I tried for a witty comeback but couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe either. I bucked against her, striking her repeatedly, but she wouldn’t budge. Stars spun around her. Lights flickered, then began to dim. I was about to pass out.

  At the last instant, I remembered my training.

  With all my remaining strength, I cupped my palms slightly, then smashed them against her ears, breaking her eardrums. She screamed and jerked up, her talons leaving my neck. Blood gushed from her ears. I gasped for air.

  Before I could subdue her, the door crashed open. Davril, breathing hard, his blond hair sweaty and in disarray, stalked in with murder in his eyes.

  “Jade, are you okay?”

  I nodded, wheezing.

  He helped me off the floor. “Don’t worry, your first time never goes the way you plan.”

  We turned to the madam. She glared at us both, her hands holding her ears. Blood trickled through her fingers.

  “You, madam, are under arrest,” said Davril.

  “That was my line,” I croaked. I needed a lozenge.

  The plan had been for us to come in quietly, infiltrate the demons’ camp and then subdue them individually in private rooms. The madam, however, seemed to have other ideas.

  “Fuck off,” she said.

  She hissed, spraying acidic spittle that sizzled on the carpet, and shifted into her demon form. Black bat-like wings sprouted from her back, shredding her dress, and curling horns burst out from her forehead. Her feet morphed into black hooves. Her skin shimmered into mottled red.

  Davril whipped out a pair of gleaming cuffs and advanced on her. “You can come peacefully or you can come otherwise—your choice. But you’re not leaving here free to prey on innocent men again.”

  “They weren’t so innocent,” she said, and launched a hoof at his face.

  He dodged aside, sweat flying.

  I sprang forward, meaning to tackle her, but one of her claws swiped at my eyes. I ducked, breathless, and was forced to retreat. She was faster now that she’d stopped pretending to be human.

  Growling, she aimed one of her palms at the ceiling. Crackling red energy built on the palm, then flashed upward, blasting a hole in the ceiling. Dust and plaster rained down, but she ignored the debris. Davril stretched out his own palm, and white light gathered there, then flared out toward the madam. Her free hand absorbed the blast, gathered its energy, then directed it back toward him. He dove to the floor. The energy passed through the air where he’d just been.

  She laughed, pumped her wings and flew toward the gap she’d created in the ceiling.

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  With my shifter reflexes, I jumped and grabbed onto one of her hooves. Her wings pumped harder, but I was too heavy.

  “Bitch!” she said.

  She kicked me in the side of the head with her other hoof. I lost hold and fell to the floor. Thankfully my instincts kicked in (har har) and I landed nimbly. Davril was just getting to his feet beside me.

  “Later, assholes!” the madam said.

  She vanished through the hole. Through it I could see that her escape wouldn’t be that easy. A dozen Fae Knights on pegasuses, led by none other than the captain of the Order of the Shield himself, Lord Julus Gleamstone, drove toward her in a wedge. We’d hoped to end this without a big show of force, but we’d come prepared just in case. Magical nets spun through the air toward her, hurled by the knights in their gleaming armor.

  She blasted more crimson lightning out of her palms, and the nets burned to a crisp. She shot her deadly energy toward the knights coming at her. Frustrated, they divided around her like water around a boulder. She flew higher.

  “She’s getting away!” Davril said.

  “Not so fast,” I said.

  I whistled. Seconds later my flying motorcycle, its black raven wings pumping gracefully, sailed through the hole in the ceiling and alit on the ground before me. Smiling smugly, I jumped astride.

  “Want to climb on the back?” I asked Davril.

  “I’ve got my own ride.”

  I knew he hadn’t whistled for it himself because he didn’t want Lady Kay to tear down half the building. Nice, right? Well, I’d show him that nice cops didn’t catch evil demons.

  Grinning, I gunned the motor and shot the motorcycle upward through the hole. Above me, Mara was vanishing into the clouds. The pegasuses pursued her, their white wings almost seeming to glow, but she threw one red blast at them after another. I patted the crossbow in its sheath mounted to the side of the bike, then drew it out and checked that a bolt was loaded. The bike wobbled, but I gripped it firmer by the handle with my left hand, stabilizing it. I’d have to learn how to ride and shoot at the same time someday. Might as well be today.

  Above me, Mara turned around and fired a blast in my direction. I swerved around it. She fired another. I dodged this one, too. Brought up my crossbow and centered it on her back. Just as she turned to fire another blast, I squeezed the trigger. The bolt, lathered with a sleeping potion, struck her under the left shoulder blade, right where the left wing sprouted.

  She stiffened, and the magical glow that had been building on her palm faded.

  “Got you,” I said.

  She paused in mid-air. Slowly, her wings stopped flapping. She fixed me with a glare of purest hate, then her eyes clouded over and she fell from the sky, totally unconscious.

  “Shit,” I said, as she plummeted right past me.

  Below, several pegasi tried to catch her, but she was falling right by them. Damn. She would hit the ground and never face judgment for her crimes. Fae Knights weren’t assassins, they were cops. We brought people in, not killed them.

  Grinding my teeth, I turned the bike around and aimed for the succubus. I knew I was too late, though. She was already dwindling to a speck below. In moments she’d crash right through the roof of the New Jersey strip center she’d just vacated.

  Sunlight flashed on silver chrome. White wings stretched to either side of a gleaming 1960s-style muscle car, and I whooped. Davril, driving his auto-steed Lady Kay, was swooping in right under Mara. Even as he pulled under her, the top cycled down, Lady Kay becoming a convertible. Davril dipped the backseat, cushioning the blow just as Mara smacked right into it.

  I joined the pegasi led by Lord Gleamstone, and we streamed by Davril to ensure that Mara was safely secured. She was.

  As I passed by him, Davril turned to me, and we exchanged a hot smile. The action had really gotten both of our bloods going. Seeing that look on his face, my heart skipped a beat, and something fluttered in my belly.

  Then I was past, but the feeling remained.

  Uh oh.

  Chapter 2

  “Great work,” said Lord Gleamstone, striding back and forth before us.

  Davril and I stood before the massage parlor while the other Fae Knights brought out the limp bodies of four succubi, plus two unconscious johns—still alive, I was glad to see, and with their souls intact. The one that had screamed earlier had only been in the beginning process of having his essence ripped out, and he was going to make it. The other had been struck over the head by his “masseuse” when the violence had broken out and was starting to come around. I wondered how the johns would explain things to their wives (if they had them) when they got back home. Well, that was thei
r lookout.

  “You apprehended the hellspawn without any loss of life, whether on our side or theirs,” continued Lord Gleamstone to Davril and me.

  I swallowed, my throat still store. “It could have gone a little smoother.”

  “You did fine,” Davril said, and I thrilled at the warmth in his voice—and the heat. Davril still looked like his blood was still raging. I was glad to see it, since mine was. I wanted to drag him into one of the massage rooms and have my way with him as soon as the Commander finished speaking, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Davril would let me.

  Lord Gleamstone seemed to sense something of what was going on between us, but he ignored it. “Before you start on the paperwork and enjoy some, er, downtime, the Queen wants to speak with you two.”

  “Both of us?” I said. That was interesting.

  “She sent word just before the fighting started. You were already in position, so I had to wait until afterward to tell you. But yes, she wants a word with you both at your earliest convenience.”

  Davril’s brows drew together. “Did she say what it was about?”

  “No, only that it had something to do with …”

  “Yes?”

  Gleamstone cleared his throat. “With your brother.”

  Davril grimaced. I knew the subject of his brother Nevos was a sore one, and for good reason. Before Nevos betrayed him and sided with the Shadow, Davril had been a king and the Fae Lands had been at peace. Now the Fae Lords were in exile on Earth and the Shadow was triumphant in their homeworld.

  Nevos, however, was now in our world. We’d been looking for some sign of him for two months.

  “Has there been a sighting?” I asked Gleamstone.

  “‘Has there been a sighting, sir?’” he corrected me.

  I mentally kicked myself. I was still getting used to all these rules and niceties. In the criminal underworld I was familiar with, we didn’t use “sir” and “ma’am” very often.

  “Sir,” I said.

  “Again, I know only what I told you. Now I suggest you visit Queen Calista immediately.”