Shadows & Flame Complete Boxed Set: Demons of Fire and Night Novels

by C. N. Crawford

  “None taken.” Ursula sniffed the air, scenting something smoky. “Is the roast burning?”

  Cera shoved past Bael and raced across the kitchen, her pale hair flying behind her. “The roast!”

  Zee frowned, scooping another spoonful of potatoes into her mouth. “We’re trying to have a conversation here.” She pointed her spoon at Ursula’s ripped tank top. “You look like shit, you know that? Good way to get the dragons to leave you alone.”

  Ursula crossed her arms. “Right. Perhaps a shower is in order before dinner, then.” As she crossed out of the room, a smile curled her lips. Angelic Armor. Surely, a creature like the Darkling wouldn’t be able to wear the armor of angels, right?

  Ursula’s hair was still wet from the shower as she made her way to the dining room, dressed in a yellow sundress. Cera had announced dinner was ready while she was still wrapped in a towel, so there hadn’t been any time to dry it.

  When she entered, everyone was already seated. Someone, probably Cera, had put a fresh tablecloth down and set the table with expensive-looking china. In the center was a steaming hunk of meat. Despite the smoke and Cera’s consternation, it looked perfectly cooked.

  There were bowls of mashed potatoes and steamed asparagus, and a large white porcelain vessel full of gravy. The room smelled amazing.

  Bael sat by the meat with a large knife in hand. “You want some of the roast?” he asked her. Ursula saw that his hair was wet too—apparently she wasn’t the only one who’d opted for a quick shower.

  “Thank you, I’d love some.”

  While Bael carved the meat, she found a seat across from him, next to Zee. Zee was carefully carving her chunk of meat into bite-size pieces.

  Across from her, Cera looked on nervously.

  “Is it all right? she asked, her voice quavering.

  Zee nodded. “It’s perfect.”

  Ursula saw that instead of a piece of meat, Cera had laden her plate with mash, asparagus, and a large roasted portobello mushroom cap. Of course—she couldn’t eat meat, unless she wanted to become corrupted and lose her mind.

  Bael passed over a plate with a slice of roast, and a large helping of each of the sides. It smelled amazing. Ursula took a bite of the meat. It tasted amazing too.

  “The roast is delicious,” she said, directing her gaze at Cera. The little oneiroi beamed back at her.

  Zee sipped her champagne. “Explain to me specifically how we’re going to defeat the dragons. Am I part of this?”

  Bael poured himself a glass of wine. “No. Ursula can lead us, of course, but clearly we need an army to fight an entire legion of dragons. I plan to raise one from the fae realm. They owe me some favors, though it will take some time. Months, perhaps.”

  Ursula’s jaw dropped. “We don’t have time. You saw what they did to Avalon.” She tightened her grip on her fork. “You know, you have this habit of withholding crucial information until the last minute.”

  Bael arched an eyebrow. “You can’t seriously expect the two of us to defeat them all, can you?”

  How could she tell him she felt it was her destiny? She didn’t know why, didn’t have a rational explanation for it. She just felt it. Niniane’s blood-stained face flashed in her mind. Months of delays, and how many more innocents would die? “It’s what the sword is for. And the sword has chosen me. I think I’m supposed to do this on my own.”

  Shadows darkened Bael’s eyes. “Don’t be absurd. I’m not letting my betrothed into a dragon’s lair without an army.”

  Her cheeks reddened. “I’m not actually your betrothed.”

  His jaw tightened. “I know that. But I still have a duty to protect you.”

  “I don’t know what I did in my past, or who I am. All I know is that it’s my fault that the dragons attacked New York. I alone should be the one to fix it. This is my chance to actually do something meaningful for a change. Don’t you understand? I’ve been a nobody ever since I can remember. A fuck-up—no purpose, no identity, the screwed-up mystery girl with no past. And this is my chance to change that. I could be a hero, but I have to accept my fate. The sword has chosen me, and I go alone.”

  Bael stared at her, the air seeming to frost in the room, but she didn’t wait for him to respond. She stood, hurrying from the dining room, desperate to get her fingers on Excalibur again. She needed to sink its metal into a dragon hide like a vampire needed blood. She hurried up the stairs to her room, where Excalibur lay on her bed. Before allowing herself to snatch the sword, she pulled off her dress, then slipped into her fighting gear: leather trousers, an armored corset, and a steel-reinforced leather jacket. Though, given what she’d discovered about the sword, perhaps she wouldn’t need all this reinforced leather. A cowboy hat completed the ensemble, just enough brim to keep her face covered from an aerial view.

  She zipped up her boots, then finally snatched Excalibur from her bed. The sword glinted in the soft light, and its ancient song of war seemed to sing in her veins.

  Reunited with her sword, she moved swiftly through the hall, rushing down the stairs, the blade igniting her body with its power.

  As she stood by the lift, waiting for the elevator to arrive, she wondered if someone would try to stop her, but she only heard the faint sound of Zee and Bael arguing in the dining room. Gently, she stroked Excalibur’s hilt, and the elevator dinged. At last. This was her destiny.

  Chapter 23

  As Ursula walked uptown, she wrapped her fingers around Excalibur’s hilt. The buildings loomed above her like dark tombs, the city deathly quiet. She needed a plan—her own plan.

  The simplest would be to simply turn around and return to the plaza to wait for Bael’s fae army. The guy had a point. It wasn’t necessarily a brilliant plan of action to take on an entire dragon legion on your own just because you had a magic sword. And yet... how many people would die before she stopped the dragons? And what if this feeling in her gut was right, the one that said this was her fate? She’d never felt so sure about anything in her life. At least, as far as she could remember.

  As she crossed by a broken shop window, a TV flickered. The volume had been turned down, but the screen displayed an announcer, standing with his finger to his ear. In the background, the Statue of Liberty loomed over him.

  As Ursula stared at the telly, an inkling of an idea began to spark in her brain, and she leaned in for a better view. They were filming across from the Statue of Liberty itself.

  Her pulse quickened, and she picked up her pace, heading for the part of the city that lay broken and burned.

  It had been hours now since she’d left the Plaza, hiking along Fifth Avenue. From under her cowboy hat, sweat trickled down her temples. Power blazed up Excalibur’s blade, curling around her body like an embrace, yet the summer heat seemed to steal her breath. She’d kill for a bit of air conditioning right now.

  Around her, ruins smoldered. The dragons had decimated Lower Manhattan, demolishing buildings like they were sand castles. Dust and smoke hung thick in the air, burning her lungs. Ahead of her, light broke from between a pair of skyscrapers that leaned against each other. Beyond the buildings was clear air. Energy sparked through her veins. She was almost there.

  With her sword by her side, she threaded her way between burnt-out cars and heaps of shattered concrete. As she neared the ocean, the smell of smoke receded, replaced by the briny scent of the sea.

  As she walked through Battery Park, she found it surprisingly intact. Dust coated the benches, but apart from that it looked untouched. Sunlight streamed through leafy tree branches, dancing over the grass. Only the absence of people in the park hinted at the dragon apocalypse.

  She bit her lip as she walked, trying to figure out where to go next. From what she’d seen on the telly, the news team had a good view of the Statue of Liberty, with the statue framed on the right side of the screen. That meant she needed to turn left.

  Just as she veered left by a small stone building, voices echoed off the pavement. Instincti
vely, she jumped back behind a corner, her pulse racing. She strained to hear, and a few words floated along the sea breeze: “…Phil Rickter reporting live…”

  Ursula smiled. She might be exhausted, but she’d found her camera crew. She pulled off her cowboy hat, dropping it onto the sidewalk, before peering around the corner. Sparse trees lined one side of a wide stone walkway, and the ocean lined the other.

  The camera crew stood next to a low metal railing, right at the edge of the water. The entire crew consisted of a cameraman and a guy holding a boom mike. The gray-haired newscaster was pointing at the Statue of Liberty as Ursula approached. Her sword sang darkly by her side.

  Maybe it was her bobbed hair, or the TV presenter’s focus on the statue, but the reporter didn’t seem to notice her at all. “—Gabby should be at the doorway at any moment,” he said solemnly.

  “Hello?” said Ursula raising a hand.

  Frowning, the reporter turned in her direction, irritated at the interruption. He looked about sixty, with a serious set of eyebrows.

  Ursula spoke more forcefully. “Hello, I’d like to be on the telly please.”

  The reporter nodded at the boom operator, who began lowering the mike.

  Ursula’s jaw tightened. “Look, I would like to turn myself in to the dragons. And I don’t know any other way to get touch with them.”

  A whole bunch of things happened at once: The reporter’s eyes widened, the cameraman spun to face her, and the boom operator lowered his mike to her face.

  “It’s her!” he shouted, jabbing the microphone at her forehead.

  Ursula took a step back, holding up her hands. “Look, I come in peace. Everyone relax.”

  The reporter pointed at her, his face reddening. “Grab her before she gets away!”

  “Stop,” she yelled, but the man was already barreling at her. Ursula dodged. “What is wrong with you?”

  Before he could answer, a shadow passed overhead, and Ursula looked at the sky, where a dragon’s iridescent, green body materialized in the air, like a chameleon shedding its camouflage. With an ear-splitting scream, it swooped lower. The camera crew ducked, cowering on the grass. Ursula’s heart thundered as the dragon circled. Screeching again, it dove for them, landing with a thundering boom that shook the earth, shaking the leaves from the trees. She looked away, trying desperately not to stare into its yellow eyes.

  Growling, it stalked toward her, and she tightened her fingers on Excalibur. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

  “Ursula!” She turned, her heart skipping a beat. Someone was riding a lunar bat—in fact, it was Cera, her white hair streaming behind her, soaring on the back of Sotz. “Jump on! I’ll take you to the island.”

  The dragon screamed again. It didn’t look like it planned to allow her to turn herself in. No, it looked like it wanted to eat her. Cera was right, she needed to get to the Statue.

  As the sound of dragon footsteps thundered behind her, Ursula ran for the sea railing. She leapt, planted a foot on the edge of the railing, and launched herself into the air.

  Chapter 24

  Ursula landed with a thud on Sotz’s back, and she grappled for balance, her legs intertwining with Cera’s. Sotz soared over the water, and the wind whipped at Ursula’s hair.

  “How did you find me?” Ursula shouted.

  “Bael tracked you.”

  “Bael?”

  “He’s right behind us.”

  Ursula twisted around to see Bael, clutching the fur of his lunar bat. And behind him, clinging to his massive body as if her life depended on it, her face pale as milk, was Zee. Bael’s fierce eyes were locked on Ursula’s, but the dragon’s scream pulled his gaze away.

  “To the Statue!” Ursula shouted.

  On the back of the lunar bat, they winged over the water. Sunlight dazzled over the waves, and the briny sea breeze kissed her skin. She shot a quick glance at the dragon, who swooped toward them, his green scales shining in the light. Excalibur whispered in the back of her mind, Fight, and her pulse raced.

  Bael’s voice boomed through the air. “Aim for the torch.”

  Cera pulled up on Sotz’s fur, guiding him higher as they raced through the sky. Higher they soared, flying steeply upward, shooting past the soft, pale green contours of Lady Liberty. At last, they arced over the edge of the torch, before veering sharply downward. They landed on the torch’s balcony with an ungraceful lurch. Ursula tumbled off, smacking her head into the wall. Dizzy, she refocused her vision just in time to see Bael land gracefully.

  Zee leapt off the bat, visibly shaking. “Well? What now?”

  Bael crossed to Ursula, holding out a hand. As she grasped it, rising, she glanced out at the water, her heart thundering against her ribs at the sight of the dragon closing in on them. Her legs began to shake—only now, it wasn’t fear. It was battle fury that sang in her blood, spurring her on.

  Bael crossed to a door on the balcony, but it was locked. He rammed it with his shoulder, and Ursula felt the blow reverberate through the stone—but the door didn’t budge.

  Excalibur called to her, and she pulled it from its sheath, staring at the dragon as it raced for them, piercing the air with its shrieks. Ursula longed to thrust her blade into its neck, but there wasn’t much room on the narrow balcony that wrapped around the torch.

  She turned to Bael, who still hammered at the door with his shoulder. She gripped her sword. “Get out of the way.”

  Bael shifted out of the way, and Ursula swung Excalibur at the locked door. As the steel clashed against the lock, sparks flew into the air. With the second strike, she cut through the lock. Ursula kicked open the door to reveal a dusty shaft. When she peered over the edge, her gaze landed on an iron ladder.

  “Go,” said Ursula, ushering Cera and Zee in front of her. They clambered down the ladder. The interior of the statue smelled like old pennies.

  “Ursula.” Bael touched her back. “Go.”

  She sheathed her sword again, turning around to hurry down the ladder. She’d descended ten feet before she realized Bael wasn’t on the ladder. She looked up at his hulking silhouette, still by the doorway. He crouched, his sword drawn.

  “What are you doing?” asked Ursula.

  “Protecting you.”

  The walls of the shaft rumbled as something slammed into them, and a dragon claw punctured the copper skin above them. A stream of bright light pierced the dark shaft. With another thundering boom, a scaled, reptilian hand ripped away part of the walls above their heads. Debris rained down on them, and sunlight poured into the shaft.

  “Hurry,” Bael snarled.

  Ursula’s sword bounced against her thigh as she clambered down. Another blow slammed into the statue, and claws ripped through the top of the torch, knocking the ladder loose. Ursula lost her grip, tumbling off the ladder in an avalanche of falling debris, dust, and fragments of steel and copper.

  Her heart skipping a beat, Ursula plummeted lower. Frantically, she grasped around, her fingers tightening around a rung. Pain tore through her shoulder as she barely held on. Coughing through the dust, she squinted into the shaft of light streaming into the ruins of the arm. There was no sign of Bael.

  “Bael!” she shouted.

  Silence greeted her—until Cera’s voice broke it from below. “Jump. We’ll catch you!”

  Just as she let go of the rung, the dragon’s head peered into the hole. The creature opened its jaws and screamed, the sound sending a shudder of dread up her spine.

  Zee’s arms nearly broke her fall, but Ursula slipped through them, slamming onto a metal catwalk that rattled violently. Pain splintered her hip, but at least the walkway had broken her fall, and she still had her sword.

  Coated in dust, Zee peered down at her. “Are you all right?”

  Slowly, Ursula sat up. “Yeah.”

  Cera knelt, helping Ursula to her feet. “Where is the lord?”

  Ursula peered up at the shattered torch, the sunlight streaming through th
e dust. The dragon had disappeared—for now. She shook her head. “He was still in the torch. The dragon ripped him away.”

  Ursula’s heart thundered, her legs shaking. What had happened to Bael?

  Cera grabbed her arm. “We must find the lord.”

  Ursula’s pulse raced. “The bats. If Bael were falling through the air, Sotz could have found him. Bael rides the lunar bats better than anyone.”

  From above, the screech of shearing metal echoed off the walls—and then, the bloodcurdling sound of a dragon’s scream as the creature ripped away another chunk of the statue.

  “We need to get out of here!” Ursula shouted.

  Zee flashed a blade—a delicate, mother-of-pearl dagger inlaid with gold. “Agreed. I’m just not sure I brought a sufficient weapon.”

  “Not to worry.” Straining her eyes through the dust and debris, Ursula eyed a locked door at the end of the catwalk. “I’ve got the only weapon we need.” She crossed to the door, unsheathing Excalibur. She swung her sword at the lock—once, twice—steel clashing against steel. She smashed the lock, then kicked the door open into a curved hall of crisscrossing metal beams: the crown of the statue, where sunlight streamed through narrow windows onto a metal walkway. Just as Ursula hurried to the window, desperate to catch a glimpse of Bael, a claw came into view, heading right for them. The sound of screeching metal pierced her eardrums again, and she stared through the window as the dragon peeled off a layer of metal like he was peeling an orange.

  Ursula whirled, pointing to a spiral metal staircase. “This way.” Gripping her sword, she ran to the stairs, with Cera and Zee close behind.

  They sprinted down the steps into the darkness, spiraling lower into the depths of the statue, while above them, the dragon sheared off portions of the statue. The sound of tearing metal was deafening. Ursula’s footfalls pounded the stairs, her body propelled forward by an irresistible force, the song of Excalibur singing in her blood. The past doesn’t matter anymore. Only what lies ahead. As she ran, she tuned out the sounds of shearing metal.