Dragon Hunter Box Set: A Dragon Shifter Serial

by Carina Wilder

  A part of her wondered if she should simply return to the flat under the lake. Wait for Lumen and discuss her next move with him.

  But she’d always worked alone, after all, and this was no different. There was no reason that she should need a Dragon shifter along for the ride while she simply sniffed around a little, investigating just as she always did.

  A cobbled lane led away from the main thoroughfare, towards the backs of some old tenement flats. As she looked into the distance, darkness seemed to spin through the air like a fog. For a moment she thought of the ethereal brightness of the underground flat, the light beaming down from the lake above. Somehow, even in the light of day, this place seemed the polar opposite. As though the sun itself had abandoned it.

  Stopping at the lane’s end, she felt her hand go to the wall next to her to steady herself, even as a dark wave of dread spread over her body. A scent had made its way to her nose, her heightened sense of smell registering it all too acutely.

  The stench of death and decay.

  Somewhere down the alley, hidden from the street, she knew, was a human body.

  But she took a deep breath and stepped forwards, walking as always into danger rather than fleeing it. This was her daily life, after all, and had been for years. And never had an opponent gotten the better of her. Even Vail had been forced to pay for the folly of cutting her, and he would suffer for it for months, no doubt.

  To Neko’s left and right, rows of red brick buildings with large, dirty-paned warehouse windows. More of the glass was shattered than not, the building’s condemned interiors no doubt cold and damp.

  She followed the pungent odour, one hand extracting a sharp dagger while the other rested on the hilt of her Khopesh, ready to spring into action.

  She pleaded with her head. Please, no dizzy spells. Not now.

  Ahead and to her left among a row of unwelcoming entrances, a garage door sat wide open. And as she advanced, all doubt faded as to just where the smell was coming from. It was as though she were being guided, lured to this place by an unseen evil.

  In here, it seemed to say. Come, Neko.

  She stepped quietly into the shadows that flooded the large, cold space. One benefit of her link with Lumen was a newly developed gift for stealth, as he’d predicted, and she felt for a moment like a cat stalking through the dark. Holding her breath she advanced, the dread surging up, bile in her throat.

  Focusing on the dark, her eyes quickly adjusted—far more quickly than ever before. Night vision goggles couldn’t have been so effective at revealing her surroundings.

  There was little to see, however: an old work bench. An empty shelf. A door embedded in the back wall, secured with a padlock. But it was her nose that guided her, despite multiple attempts to deny the rankness of the lure.

  In the far corner, what looked like a pile of clothing beckoned her closer.

  God, no, she thought. Don’t let it be what I think it is.

  She advanced, knowing full well what she would find. The real question was what state the body would be in, and why.

  The man lay half on his back, a ghostly white hand with multiple bite marks draped over his belly. His eyes, vacant, grey with lack of life, stared up towards the ceiling.

  His throat had been torn out, and blood dripped down the side of his neck like fresh paint.

  Neko crouched down, her right hand covering her mouth and nose, though nothing was sufficient to mask the smell. Her left hand still grasped the dagger, as though it could somehow defend her against this ghastly sight.

  She reached down and touched the man’s face. He was human, just as Beatrix had said. No shifter.

  And still warm.

  And yet his body showed all the signs of having been deceased for several days, all the colour ripped away from him, save the dark crimson of the blood staining his wounds.

  Those who seek blood.

  Why would they want his blood? Who was he? From the looks of his sullied clothing, he was nothing more—or less—than a vagrant. Probably seeking a place to take a nap in the middle of the day.

  Drawing herself to her full height, Neko took a step backwards. She’d have to tell Lumen about this, and notify Bertie, as well. This was not the work of the Lapsed—they’d never killed a human that she’d heard of. This was something else. Something new. And it threatened the existence of the Dragons, and even of the Syndicate. The moment that human eyes became drawn to something like this, shifters would be seen as menaces. Vicious killers. There would, after all, be no one else to blame.

  But even as she contemplated walking away to perform her duty and report her findings, a chill struck at her heart in the form of an icy voice. As cold as death itself.

  “Where is the Relic, Neko?”

  Frigid terror made its way up her spine as she recognized the voice.

  He’d trapped her. And worse, she’d walked right into it.

  Revelations

  Fifteen or so minutes passed before Lumen began his descent into the familiar lake at the Heath, diving into the water like an enormous silver dart. Barely disturbing the surface.

  The last time he’d come to this place, it had been with Neko on his back. His prisoner, untrusting, reluctant to accompany him and only doing so to save her flesh from Vail’s arrows.

  But now he was alone, seeking answers from his fellow Dragons. Looking only to protect his lover, and to ensure their future together.

  To find out the truth of what was happening in London.

  The Dragon landed softly on the cobblestones, transforming immediately into human form. This time, Minach wasn’t around to greet him. But no doubt he and the others would be in the Guild’s chamber, waiting. They always knew when he was coming. Always anticipated him.

  He strode rapidly down the hallway toward the large room, his only thoughts of the new verses and what they revealed. Grim, and potentially deadly, news. If his instincts were correct, then not only shifters, but humans, were in grave danger.

  He came at last to the chamber’s door and pushed it open to find the Dragon shifters seated, their eyes trained on him as though they’d been waiting patiently for an hour.

  “Lumen. Why did you come?” asked Minach, his tone hard. “You should be looking for the Relic, not wasting time down here.”

  “Yes, I should be,” Lumen shot back. “And I was doing just that this morning. But something has come up that we need to discuss, and it cannot wait.”

  “What’s happened?” It was Kliev who spoke this time, the oldest of the Dragon shifters. Lumen had always respected him for his knowledge, his quiet intellect and his abundance of experience. Though the older shifter rarely spoke of the days centuries earlier when he’d served as a warrior, leading other Dragons against various enemies.

  Some said that Kliev was verging on seven hundred years, though to human eyes he didn’t look a day over thirty-five. Lumen had always wondered why he hadn’t volunteered to lead the Guild when the situation had presented itself, but it seemed in the end that he hadn’t wanted the responsibility. Rumour had it that the events of his past had soured him on the role of leadership. He’d once said that the burden of hundreds of lives lost had fallen too hard on his shoulders, and that his days of commanding Dragons to fly to their deaths were long over. But little was known of the details of his distant past, and he was reticent when it came to divulging them.

  Lumen’s eyes focused on Kliev’s as he began to speak, studying the other shifter’s expression. Searching for a reaction that might inform his own thoughts.

  “Neko and I came close—very close—to finding the Relic. But when we uncovered its hiding spot, we were greeted with new verses, carved in stone. A warning, if you will, of a new threat. One that shouldn’t exist. One that I thought long gone.”

  “Tell us,” said Kliev. “What did the verses say?”

  Lumen shut his eyes as he spoke the words slowly, each syllable filled with meaning:

  “The Relic has moved to the
Saint’s watchtower, hidden from those who seek blood and crave power. At home in the dark are those whose flesh is thin. Beware their true nature, and that of their kin.”

  The older shifter inhaled deeply, his face going pale. “I haven’t heard words like those in centuries. Not since…” he began, cutting himself off before concluding the thought.

  “Is it true, Kliev?” asked Lumen. “Those who seek blood? Are you telling us that there’s been a return?”

  “What do you mean, a return?” asked Minach. “A return of what, exactly?”

  Kliev rose from his chair and strode towards one of the chamber’s stained glass windows, pausing with his back to the others. Lumen could see the tension in his body as he strained to find the words.

  Finally he turned back to the rest of the group and spoke, his eyes focusing on each of them in turn.

  “Centuries ago, reports surfaced of a group in the north—a race of men and women who were powerful. Incredibly strong, and swift. They were described as white as ghosts, their flesh pallid and thin. At first, shifters regarded them as no sort of threat; they looked weak. Frail, even. But they were anything but, of course.

  “They were appealing, as well. Their scents mesmerized many, intoxicated them. Some of the shifters found mates among their kind and bonded with them. The result was devastating to Dragon kind.”

  “The Forsaken.” Lumen murmured the word, hardly allowing it to cross his lips.

  Kliev nodded. “Yes. That’s what we called them. A hybrid of shifter and those…other creatures. In their shifted forms, they were as powerful as they’d ever been. In human form, weakened. Unless…”

  “Unless what?” asked Minach. “Christ, Kliev, what are you telling us?”

  Kliev turned to him. “Unless they’d fed.”

  Lumen looked across the table at Kabal and Tryst, neither of whom seemed surprised by this information. Only Minach’s face revealed shock. But then, he was the youngest Guild member; a mere sixty years old. He didn’t know of the ancient legends, which had long since been locked away in a vault of memories, and were rarely spoken of.

  “Fed? Fed on what, exactly?” Minach asked, his tone impatient.

  Lumen spoke, offering Kliev a chance to rest. He could see that talking of this period in the Dragons’ history was taxing for the man.

  “Blood seekers, as the verse said,” he replied, turning to Minach. “They feed on human blood.”

  “We, the Dragons, killed many of their kind,” Kliev said, his voice hoarse. “And we lost many, as well. The Forsaken, as I said, are swift—impossibly so. And when at full strength, their power is unparalleled.”

  “But this makes no sense. You’re saying they…this alleged breed of blood seekers…has returned,” protested Minach. “If that were the case, would we not be hearing of human bodies scattered throughout London?”

  “Perhaps no humans have been slaughtered yet, that we know of. But we would do well not to ignore the warning that Lumen uncovered. If the first Relic was moved from its hiding spot, then it was done with good reason. No one would do such a thing without a powerful motive. In all likelihood, the Forsaken are in London now.”

  “Umbra,” Lumen spoke softly, as if to himself. “I wonder…”

  “You’ve never seen him in the flesh,” said Kliev, as though reading his mind. “Have you?”

  Lumen shook his head, his thoughts still sorting themselves. “But Neko has. She met with him.”

  “Do you think she knows what he is?”

  “To her he’s just a man with pasty flesh and a penchant for lies. We speculated that he’s a Controller, but it never occurred to me how strong he could be.”

  “And no doubt he is a Controller,” Kliev said. “But if he also has the blood of the Forsaken in him…”

  “He will be more dangerous than we’d ever considered, even in human form,” said Lumen. “She told me once that he seemed frail. Sallow, weak, even. But it never occurred to me that he could be anything but a Controller—a shifter. If he’s what you say…”

  “Yes, that is the danger, of course. Their kind—they are often so pale as to seem transparent, and few feel threatened by their presence. There is even a myth that the other species that makes up their genetic fabric—Vampires, if we must use that awful word—hate sunlight, but in fact it’s only that the brightness can hurt their eyes and burn their skin. They have few weaknesses when they are at full strength. Though the one positive piece of information that I can impart is that a Dragon can take them on. We’ve done so in past, and we’ll do it again, if necessary. There are ways to kill them, and even a Hunter such as Neko can fight them, if she’s properly equipped. Dragon bone weapons are what she will need.”

  “I have some, locked away,” said Lumen. “They belonged to my ancestors. I’ll make sure she gets them—and her fellow Hunters as well. We will need to work with the Syndicate—and to let them know what they’re in for. They will, all of them, be in grave danger.”

  Kliev nodded silently.

  “No doubt even the strongest of the bastards isn’t fireproof,” Minach interjected. “So what’s stopping us from finding this Umbra and setting him alight?”

  “It’s not so easy,” Lumen replied. “We haven’t seen a trace of him. He sends his Lapsed minions to do his work while he hides in the shadows. And in the last few days they seem only to be stalking us. No attacks, and no sign of the man himself.”

  “Well, we’ll have to hunt him down. It’s simple.”

  Kliev spoke. “Simple, you say. And yet more will come, even if we take him down. They always do. Umbra is only the beginning of a wave; make no mistake. And when it hits London, things will turn very, very bad before the end. The Dragons will need to be careful. We will be blamed if—and when—humans begin to be victimized. The Forsaken are very adept at remaining concealed.”

  Lumen stood frozen for a moment, pondering his next move. He had confirmation now of his worst fears. But he would have to head back—to check in on Neko. No one could get to her in their underground flat, of course, but just in case…

  “Lumen.” Tryst, who had remained uncharacteristically silent for some time, turned his way, an unusual tone of kindness in her voice.

  “Mmmm?” he said, distracted.

  “Where is Neko?”

  “Under the lake at Hyde Park,” he said. “She’s quite safe.”

  “Are you—certain—that she’s there?”

  His entire body tensed as he turned his gaze towards the Dragon shifter with the flame-red hair, his heart leaping in his chest.

  Fear. That’s what he saw in her eyes. Fear for him, for Neko, for all of them. Something had penetrated her mind, scarring her immediately and deeply with a violent pain.

  But if Neko was in trouble, how had he not seen it, felt it? His bond with her was new, yes—but strong. Unbreakable.

  “You’ve seen something,” he said. “What is it?”

  “I had a flash just now,” she said. “A vision. I think—”

  “Damn it, Tryst. Show me. Now.”

  She shut her eyes tight, and Lumen did the same, waiting for her to convey the silent message. She would know what to do; she would offer him a glimpse into her own mind, an intimate revelation of all that she’d seen.

  He waited, his heart racing erratically as an eternity seemed to pass. It was all he could do not to dash out the door and sprint away, back to Neko. Whatever Tryst had to show him, it couldn’t be more important than her.

  He’d all but resolved to do just that when at last the image formed, coming to him slowly, in fits and starts. At first a series of moving pictures formed, blurry and confusing. But there was no question in his mind that it was Neko that he saw. The woman he’d grown to care for so deeply. The woman who’d become his lover.

  His soul mate.

  Neko, he called out, his mind searching for the link to hers. Neko, I’m here. Can you hear me? Can you feel me?

  She stood isolated, petrified with fe
ar, in a dark, decrepit place, an engulfing mist spiralling about her form. Whether the mist was a fabrication of his mind or of her own, he couldn’t yet say.

  Taut with horror, her knuckles had gone white, fingers grasping the handles of her blades in preparation for a fight that she knew she couldn’t win.

  Before her a tall figure appeared in a flash, his skin ghostly pale. His eyes were cruel, cold, and filled with the sort of hate that comes from a need for vengeance. He looked down at her with a malevolent grin on his thin lips, pleased to have found such a prize of a victim alone. Vulnerable.

  No, Neko. Where are you—why did you leave our home?

  Terror overcame Lumen. He knew exactly how she felt in that moment, her emotions melding with his own. She was powerless against the threat before her. For all her heightened senses, for all her strength and independence, she needed her mate now. And yet she was alone. Abandoned. Somehow he’d failed to reach out to her, to ensure her safety. He had become so distracted by his own brief mission that he’d temporarily lost the link to the most important person in his life.

  In his mind’s eye, he saw the man reach an arm out for his beautiful lover, grabbing her hard around the throat.

  And then, nothing but a swirling blackness.

  “I have to go,” he said, turning on his heel. “There’s no time. I have to find her.”

  I only hope it isn’t too late.

  Darkness Falling

  In a flash Neko spun around, Khopesh extracted from its sheath. A meager barrier separating her body from Umbra’s.

  “What have you done?” she asked, her eyes focusing on his. “Did you kill this man?”

  Umbra took a long stride towards her. Even in the dark she could see that he’d changed since their last meeting. A few days earlier he’d appeared emaciated, his skin translucent white. But now he was larger, stronger. His flesh had the pink tone of health about it, his eyes bright. The delicate weakness that he’d exhibited in her office had been replaced by the sort of density of a strong man, full of life. Threatening and powerful.