I'd worked hard and had sacrificed much to become a Ranger. Ultimately, I wanted to become a Warden and knew that one day I'd achieve it, but until then, I was satisfied in my role. I enjoyed it. Unlike some of the Dragonborn, I enjoyed the world of man, what it had to offer, and even the people, as well.
I knew that some of the other Rangers and Wardens living in the world of man kept to themselves or only interacted with other Dragonborn, but I figured, we were in this world fighting for them, why not get to know them? Why not make a few friends here and there? Our duty, though sacred and honorable, was lonely. Solitary. Making some friends along the way made it less burdensome.
Not only that, but befriending the people we were sworn to protect made the job more, personal. At least, for me. It made me feel like I had a bigger stake in the world of man. A real purpose and an even greater sense of duty to the people I served.
Not that they knew I served them. Protected them. Kept them safe from all those things that went bump in the night. Our world existed within theirs, but was a secret world. The people never knew we existed anymore than they knew the monsters we protected them from.
It was better that way. Safer for all of us. One thing I'd learned about humanity in my time in their world was that they didn't cope well with having their realities challenged. They were likely to flip out about learning something like the Shongtal existed. Some would claim it had something to do with religion. Others would politicize it. Still others would simply wail in terror.
The one thing I knew for certain though, was that discovering something like the Shongtal – or any of the other terrifying creatures in their world – would be met with fear and violence. And as was the case with many things, that violence would be turned upon one another.
Rather than unify to protect the world – and each other – agenda-driven people would use that knowledge to gain power, influence, and push their views onto others. They would stoke the fears of the people and incite them to violence, all the while, claiming this group or that group was responsible for these evil beings. I'd seen it more times than I could count.
Discovery of the dark creatures we fought, not to mention the Dragonborn ourselves, would tear the world of man apart.
I finished the drink in my hand and set the glass down on the table. It was time to get to work.
~ooo000ooo~
Half an hour later, I walked into Heat, one of LA's premier hotspots. It was a restaurant and, in another part of the building, a nightclub. It was the place where the Hollywood elite came to be seen. Any night of the week, you could walk in and rub elbows with some of LA's movers and shakers and Hollywood royalty. Although, truth be told, most of them wouldn't give us common folk the time of day. Uptight snobs.
Heat also happened to be owned by my territory's Warden – Quint. And because I was back in town and at his disposal, I was required to check in with him. Not that I minded. Quint was one of the good ones. An honorable man. Somebody I was proud to serve under.
He was Fire Clan, while I was of the Forest Clan. Traditionally, our clans back in Chondelai weren't always on the best of terms. The truce between all the clans following the War of the Three Stones – the event that prompted our presence in the world of man – was still holding, but was always tenuous. At best. Politics in Chondelai were tedious and oftentimes, petty.
Most of the Kings of the clans wanted to do the right thing, but were often hamstrung by their own ambitions and desires. Once in a while, somebody's greed overcame their good sense and threatened that fragile truce, but the other Kings would rally together and make sure the truce held. So far it had worked.
For all of the damage the War of the Three Stones had done to Chondelai, for how close it came to splitting our world apart and doing irreparable harm, much good had also come out of it. Continued to come out of it even centuries later.
But in the world of man, things were different for the Dragonborn. We were so far removed from Chondelai and all of its politics that things like clan distinction – for the most part – were irrelevant. Oh, there were some who still held along those old lines of loyalty and would give those of us in traditionally rival clans the cold shoulder, but for the most part, we were all on the same side, working together for the greater good.
“Can I help you, sir?”
I looked at the tall, leggy blonde who was standing at the hostess’s podium in the lobby of the club side of Heat. The music was dull and muted out where we were thanks to the two large doors that were set into a wall at the far end of the lobby.
“I'm Zarik. I’m here to see Quint,” I said.
“Oh,” she said, very pointedly looking at her watch. “Is he expecting you?”
I nodded. “Probably,” I replied. “I'm a bit of a night owl.”
She gave me a small grin. “So is he,” she said. “Just give me one minute.”
“Of course.”
As she picked up a phone on her podium, I took a step back to give her the illusion of privacy. The fact of the matter though, was that I could have stood at the far end of the lobby and still heard every word she said. The senses of the Dragonborn are heightened. Sharpened. Our sense of smell, vision, and even hearing was greater than any human's. So, I listened to her softly speaking to Quint into the phone. After a moment, she hung up and gave me a warm, almost shy smile.
“He's waiting for you in his office,” she said and pointed to a door set discretely into the wall behind her station. “Just go through there, take the stairs up and follow the hallway down.”
“Thank you very much,” I said.
She pushed a button on her podium and an electronic buzzing sounded from the door. I opened it and walked through, letting it close softly behind me. Honestly, I was glad he had a private entrance to his office. The last thing I wanted to do was walk through that crush of bodies in the club. Given just how heightened my senses were, the last thing I wanted to deal with was the flaring strobe of the lights and the loud, skull-rattling music. Not to mention the overpowering aroma of drugs, sweat, and sex from the throngs of people grinding their bodies together out on the dance floor.
It could all be a little overwhelming at times; which was why Quint probably had this private entry built to begin with.
I followed the hallway to the solid oak door at the end. It opened before I could even knock and I found myself staring into Quint's smiling face. He pulled me to him in a powerful, back-slapping embrace – the embrace of brothers who'd gone too long without seeing each other.
“It's great to see you, Zarik,” he said. “It's been too long. Thank you for coming so quickly. Honestly, I hadn't expected to see you for another few days.”
“When my Warden calls, I come running,” I replied with a grin.
“Since when?”
“Since you called me yesterday.”
He laughed and led me into his office, closing the door behind us. As I stepped inside though, I paused. Sitting on a couch behind a smoked glass window that overlooked the club was a short, curvy redhead. She was a stunning woman, with dark brown eyes and milky white skin – she was also somebody I didn't recognize.
“If you'd told me this was going to be a party,” I said, “I would have brought a date.”
The woman hid her smile behind her hand, but couldn't quite stifle the laugh.
“Astrid,” Quint said, “this ill-mannered, uncouth lout is Zarik, my most valued and trusted Ranger.”
I shrugged. “He says that about all the boys.”
She got to her feet and walked over to me, extending her hand. “Pleasure to meet you,” she said. “Quint's told me a lot about you.”
I took her hand and planted a soft kiss on it. “The pleasure is mine, Astrid.”
She blushed and gave me a smile before she walked back to the couch and sat down. I cut a look at Quint, not sure how much I could – or should – say in front of a human woman. Quint smiled, as if understanding.
“You can speak freely in front
of Astrid,” he said. “I hide nothing from her.”
“Nothing?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
Quint gave me a small smile. “She has some personal experience with the Shongtal,” he explained. “And with us.”
Astrid turned her brown eyes on me and smiled. “And which clan are you?”
I cut one more quick glance at Quint and he nodded. “Forest clan.”
“Quint has given me a little bit of the history of the clans and your world,” she said. “But I know I still have much to learn.”
“Don't we all?” I asked.
I took the far end of the couch and turned to her as Quint sat down in the chair across from us. The music in the club was a dull thud coming through the thick glass. I took a look down at the floor of the club, watching the eager bodies grinding together beneath the strobes. Intermittently, bursts of flame would erupt from wall mounted devices, delighting the exuberant crowd.
“I see the club is still jumping,” I said.
Quint nodded. “It's doing pretty well.”
“Better than just pretty well,” Astrid chimed in with obvious pride in her voice. “Heat was named the city's top restaurant and nightclub. Again.”
“Congratulations,” I said. “I'm happy to hear of your success.”
“Wish I could take credit for it,” Quint replied. “But my role here is small, really. I've got an excellent staff who really makes this place work. Although I didn't ask you to come back to LA to talk about my business.”
“Well, not this business, anyway,” I said.
“Sadly, no,” Quint said. “I needed your talents here in LA.”
“The Shongtal?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Surprisingly, no,” Quint replied. “They've been astoundingly quiet for a little while now. A little too quiet, if you ask me.”
“I'd prefer we never hear from them again,” Astrid said.
A moment of silence descended over the room as Astrid tried to shake whatever memories were currently haunting her. Knowing her memories had to do with the Shongtal though, I figured that they were probably terrible.
“So, if it's not the Shongtal,” I finally said. “What's going on around here?”
“I wish I knew,” Quint said. “But we've recently seen a number of bodies left around the city that look like they've been – eaten.”
“Eaten?” I asked.
Astrid looked repulsed, but Quint nodded. “Yeah, the organs and soft meat on the body, anyway,” he said.
“Interesting,” I said.
“Disgusting,” Astrid replied.
I laughed. “Much of what comes from Chondelai is disgusting,” I said. “Including your boyfriend.”
Quint shot me the finger but laughed. Astrid just shook her head, grinning.
“You boys are no different than human boys,” she said. “Always looking to zing each other.”
I shrugged. “I suppose it's true – boys will be boys.”
“Anyway,” Quint said. “I've been looking into this for the last few weeks and haven't come up with squat. No leads, no nothing. There's something out there, but I'm obviously not finding it. I can use your eyes and your brain, Zarik. You've always been better at the detective work than me.”
I grinned. “No need to lay the flattery on that thick,” I said. “You're my Warden and what you ask, I do. I am yours to command.”
He shook his head and smiled. “You know I'm not like that.”
“I know, brother,” I said. “I'm just giving you a hard time.”
“See?” he said to Astrid. “Some things never change.”
“Boys will be boys,” she said.
I stood up and gave them both a nod. “I'll look into it and when I find something, I'll report back to you.”
“Thank you,” Quint said. “And please – be careful out there.”
Chapter Three
It had been three nights since my meeting with Quint and I hadn't found a thing. No bodies. No mysterious creatures. No mysterious creatures snacking on bodies. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. I was striking out everywhere.
And yet, something in my gut told me there was indeed something out there. Something lurking in the shadows. Something predatory, dangerous. I could sense it. Smell it on the air.
The moon was high overhead, bathing the city in a silvery, monochromatic light, gleaming off the windows in the high rises. It was a still, clear night. There was no cloud cover, the temperature was nice and comfortable. I would have given anything to shift, spread my wings, and soar through the nighttime sky. I wanted to fly along the coast, breathe in the scent of the ocean air, feel the spray of the waves crashing against the rocks.
And since there was absolutely nothing else going on, I decided that maybe I would go and do that after I'd finished up my patrol.
I picked my way down an alley. It was dark, grimy, and littered with trash. The scent of decay and rot was thick in the air. It was one of the things that always confounded me about Los Angeles. The image of LA in other parts of the world was all glitz and glamor. To many, LA represented the land of wealth and opportunity. It was where the small-town kid could make good and live a life of riches and fame.
In reality, LA was the exact opposite of that in most ways. Oh, there was plenty of glitz, glamor, and wealth. Though just below the surface was the real LA – the LA most people existed in. It was a city of dirt and grime. Of desperation and predation. And unless you had a certain look, certain connections, or a certain moral flexibility that allowed you to do unspeakable things for a chance, opportunity was scare.
Sitting between two rusting dumpsters was an old, homeless man wearing what had once been a green jacket. Though covered with dirt and grime, I could see various patches from his military service in Vietnam. I sighed and shook my head, saddened that this warrior, somebody who'd sacrificed for his country, had put his life on the line for it, had been left in the streets to rot.
He looked up at me, his face dirty, his beard long and scraggly. He looked like he hadn't eaten in days and smelled like he hadn't bathed in weeks. Maybe months. And there was fear in his eyes. Yet, I didn't get the sense that it was fear of me.
I squatted down in front of him, holding my hands out to show him I had no weapons and nothing to fear. His eyes though, locked on to the hilt of the sword on my back.
“It's okay,” I said. “I'm not here to hurt you. I just have a couple of questions.”
Reluctantly, almost as if he feared my blade would come flying out of its scabbard of its own accord, he let his eyes drift down to mine. He licked his lips but didn't say anything, just waited for me to speak.
“What are you afraid of?” I asked softly. “I can see the fear in your eyes.”
His eyes darted around wildly, scanning the alley in one direction and then the other. His body tensed and he looked ready to bolt. I reached out and put a gentle hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him.
“Did you see something, old timer?” I asked. “It's okay, you can tell me.”
He licked his lips again nervously and beneath my hand, I felt his body trembling. Whatever he'd seen was bad enough to terrify him. And I had to imagine that being a veteran of such a terrible war, he'd seen some terrible things.
“M – monsters,” he said, his voice dry and scratchy.
“What kind of monsters?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nothin' like I ever seen before.”
I sort of figured that it was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. The creatures that crept through the night preying on humanity were very likely unlike anything anybody in the world of man had ever seen before. Or at least, anybody still alive. Chances were, if you saw one of these monsters, it was going to be the last thing you saw.
Which made this man's account incredibly valuable to me.
“Can you describe these monsters for me?” I asked.
The fear etched itself deeper into his face and his trembling became even more pronounced. His eyes
darted wildly, clearly fearful that whatever he'd seen would come back to get him. And maybe he was right to fear that.
“Th – they was walkin' around on two legs – like us,” he said. “But they was like – like –”
His mouth opened and closed, but no more words came out. It was as if he was struggling to even come up with a description vivid enough to convey the horror he'd seen.
“Like what?” I prodded. “What were they like?”
“They was like lizards or somethin', man.”
I cocked my head and looked at him. “Lizards?”
He nodded. “They had these long snouts, little beady eyes, and a mouthful of these sharp lookin' teeth,” he said. “They had tails too, man. Sorta looked like the tail on a scorpion or somethin'.”
I sat back on my heels and mulled over what he was saying. What he was describing. I'd never seen – let alone heard – about anything like that before. But then, I'd never really heard of half-eaten bodies turning up on the streets of LA either. Yeah, there was a lot of violence in the city, and bodies dropped each and every night. But eaten? That wasn't so common.
The logical part of my mind had to wonder if what he was describing was really what he'd seen. Beneath the thick layer of body odor that clung to him, I could smell the alcohol on him.
“Did these things, these monsters, happen to see you?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I don't think so. I'd probably be dead if they had,” he said. “Can't say the same for the guy they were draggin' down the alley though. That dude's probably dead.”
“Which way did they take him?”
He pointed to my left – the direction I'd been going when I found him. I stood up and pulled a couple of hundred dollar bills out of my pocket and handed it to the man. He looked at the cash suspiciously for a moment before slowly reaching out and taking it.
“Get a hot meal,” I said. “Maybe a room for the night somewhere.”
“T – thank you,” he said.
I nodded. “I appreciate the information,” I replied. “Now go. And be safe.”
He got to his feet and shuffled down the alley, in the opposite direction I was headed. I watched him go for a moment and then turned and walked down the alley. It opened into a vacant field, one strewn with more trash than had been in the alley. This was apparently, the dumping ground for the neighborhood. There were old refrigerators, cardboard boxes in various states of decay, and a great many things I couldn't identify.
No Such Thing as Dragons : Complete Series Box Set (Books 1 - 5) Page 15
