by Livia Quinn
“I’m sorry, Ryan. What you’re seeing is real.” There were over two hundred ‘birds’ in the sky, silently circling the bass fisherman like carrion over road kill. But they were so obviously not birds. They didn’t squawk or make any other bird sounds, which would alert their prey.
Their heads sported long pointed snouts; jaws which when opened flashed dozens of sharp teeth. From neck to tail they were thin except for a pooched stomach where it seemed their wings were attached, and each thinly membraned section ending in a sharp point.
The noise of wings flapping overhead preceded one of the creatures hitting the ground between us. It didn't move. Looking at it on the ground I realized how much the distance distorted the size and weight of the things. This one was well over four hundred pounds and probably could have eaten me and Ryan both. Ryan jumped back and shot it several times, though the bullets didn’t seem to penetrate far into the tough hide.
I said, “Just don’t shoot the biggest one. He’s on our side.”
One of the flock dove toward the man in the boat and was within striking distance when it burst into flame. Light on the water dimmed like clouds had passed over the moon. The great body of the black dragon, wings expanded, glided into the center of the flock, releasing short bursts of fire, immediately searing the devils into clunky carcasses with gravity doing the rest.
They fell out of the sky making loud splashes around the boat as they cannonballed into the water. Like an F-18 doing a flyby of the control tower, Conor’s giant wings tucked. He performed two perfect barrel rolls and hurtled toward us. The sight of his brilliant blazing eyes and flared nostrils, not to mention the wide mouth filled with a thousand sharp teeth produced a strangled warble from Ryan and he dove out of the way. Overkill, Conor. I thought Ryan had fainted until I heard him holler, “Duck.”
A chuckle rose from my chest as I stood my ground. “No, that’s a dragon, my man.”
I couldn’t explain why I wasn’t scared but every time I observed Conor’s dragon form I felt… envious. Besides Flambe´ was a knight, and I knew he was testing me.
“Jack! What was that?” Ryan scrambled to his feet and stared as Conor soared back into the sky and aimed for the rest of the flock. “It…nah…” Ryan put the back of his hand to his forehead. “I must be hallucinating. Damned if that…”
A laugh burst out before I could contain it. Ryan might as well experience a bit of the giant reality slope I’d had to climb if he was going to adjust quickly.
“Jack. You’re just standing there like we didn’t just see a big ass fire-breathing dragon swoop down out of the sky and…”
“Well, what did you think you were aiming at, Big Black Bird?”
His shoulders dropped and he stared at me, white surrounding his pupils. “Jack, there are no such things as dragons.” This was met by a roar from the sky and a belch of flame so large, it reflected on the water below as Conor took out twenty of the demons at once.
“I would have said the same, Ryan, a month ago. And that goes for faeries, and Dinnshenchas, and vampires, genies, and weather witches.”
Ryan’s mouth fell open as he absorbed my words. Clamping it shut he rammed his hand through his hair. He was completely missing the show in the sky above him. I watched as Ryan said, “What are… you telling me there’s… I mean, did you say…vampires?” His voice rose.
“Ryan,” I grabbed Ryan’s arm and pointed, forcing him to look up. Conor was toying with the smaller prehistoric-looking birds, knocking them into each other like air born bowling balls. The dragon was under siege by more of…what had he called them…shmoo? But he handled them with casual insouciance, hovering in mid air on his haunches, batting them with both wings. Well, of course, he’d be ambidextrous! He used both of his massive swords equally well.
The birds’ numbers were dwindling and soon all but one retreated from the sky. It made a last try for the fisherman while the dragon was busy with his brothers, but the crack of a rifle had me diverting my attention to my wingman. Once again, Ryan had delivered. While I’d been rapt with attention on Conor’s fight, Ryan had been watching it through the sights of his rifle.
The remaining viper stumbled in the sky a few feet from the bass boat and Conor finished it off by spearing it with one of the spear tips at the end of his wings. He made a wide arc depositing it on the ground at Ryan’s feet.
I grinned at Ryan. “Sweet. He brought you your kill.”
Ryan looked from the dead viper to the sky and back at me. He shook his head as he attempted to make sense of what he’d just seen. I knew firsthand what he was feeling, and we both knew better than most—the best way to adjust was to keep moving forward.
“Ryan, I wish you had time to get used to what you’ve just seen but you need to shake it off. It’s just a dragon. You’ll see stranger things than that, if you live till tomorrow.” Ryan’s head jerked up and our eyes met. I wasn’t smiling. “I told you before you should leave while you had a chance. You want to go now?”
I steeled myself so he wouldn’t see in my eyes how much I wanted him to stay. This had to be his decision.
Ryan’s gaze went back to the sky. While his mind worked through the events of the last hour, he watched Conor fly over the lake hunting down the remaining goofus. Then with his always-present cool, Ryan said, “Is it any worse than when we were outnumbered thirty to one by the Taliban and didn’t know if we were going to get reinforcements?"
“It could be,” I said, wanting Ryan to understand the danger we were in. “We were trained against a certain kind of enemy then, and knew the type of weapons and tactics we were dealing with. This time, we’re the only known entity. Us, and a bunch of our good guys who won’t be able to help until later today or tonight. I have an idea how we can get help, but it’s mostly going to boil down to balls and brains.”
Ryan grinned. “Well, you always said I had more balls than brains.”
There was a reason I’d wanted Ryan to back me up in Destiny. His handle in the Navy had been ‘Stones’ because he had the biggest set of anyone in my unit. He’d saved my bacon many times. I waited to hear what he’d say, then in typical Ryan fashion he grinned. “Hoo-yah. We have a dragon for a point-man!”
One Navy high five later, Ryan looked distastefully at the creature on the ground. “Uh…am I still cleanup?”
“I think that…” I nodded my head at the shmoo “…was a test. And if you haven’t noticed by now, Conor—that’s the dragon’s name—does his own cleanup.”
“How did you learn his name?” He looked awed. “It’s a talking dragon?” The grin got wider.
“Aye, mon,” the deep Scottish voice said over Ryan’s shoulder. “He is a talking dragon.”
Ryan whirled, the rifle leveled at Conor’s now powerful human chest, but he didn’t shoot. I watched as Ryan’s chin rose and his eyes narrowed assessing the warrior with the gleaming swords on his back, the massive muscular frame, the steady amber gaze. There were still some dragon parts that hadn’t yet humanized.
Ryan smirked as Conor moved the rifle tip aside with his gloved index finger. Ry looked at me and laughed. “Oh, man, when you said, ‘get out now’, maybe I shoulda listened, but I’m glad I didn’t. Count me in.” He stuck his hand out toward Conor.
A brilliant flash of metal moved the air between Ryan and me. We looked down to see one bronzed arm holding the end of one of the massive swords. The other had impaled the possum-playing creature on the ground. The tendons in Conor’s forearm flexed as he gave one clockwise wrench of the blade in the heart of the beast. He withdrew the sword and flipped it over his head. The leathery tattoos across his shoulders rippled when it sank into its sheath. The Dark Knight had moved so swiftly that Ryan’s hand was still extended.
Conor’s eyebrow rose as he took Ryan’s measure. His hand clamped down hard on Ryan’s shoulder and he said, “There will be more, ya' ken?”
I nodded at Conor. “If you’re done here, head back to Harmony.” Conor merely nodded,
took a step and transformed with Ryan gawking as he gained altitude. “Ryan, see if you can coax that man off the bottom of his boat and get him to shore.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” Ryan said watching Conor until he disappeared. He was in remarkably good spirits, but then he’d always loved a good fight. “Uh, what if he asks me if I saw the pterodactyls he reported and the…fire-breathing dragon shooting them out of the sky?”
“Breathalyze him,” I said. “Then ask if he wants you to transport him back to Jackson to the mental hospital.”
Ryan watched the sky like he needed proof he wasn’t crazy, then he turned and walked toward shore. There was no sign of the man in the boat. He was probably still shaking in a pool of his own vomit.
I got in my cruiser and drove back to Harmony, hoping there’d been some progress with Tempe and the others. It felt good to have Ryan onboard and things out in the open with him, but it wouldn’t be enough. I felt it in my bones.
Chapter 6
Montana
I am Dinnshencha. Make my day.
My hackles rose when I saw who was standing at the front door to Aurora’s shop. The floosy big-busted fake blonde could only be Jack’s ex, Georgeanne. Her face was suffused with hatred and it was aimed at Tempe. “Move aside,” I ordered, walking between her and Tempe.
She peered around me and poked her index finger at Tempe. “You will never take my place, not with Jordie, and not with my man.”
“Go on inside,” I said to Tempe and Phoebe.
Dylan was amused looking like he expected us to start mud wrestling or something, but then he pointed at Georgeanne and said, “You’ve got some carrrazy eyes.”
He was right. She did have crazy eyes, the color of the chartreuse fishing jigs I’d seen displayed in the convenience stores and bait shops. “Go inside, Dylan. I’ll take care of this.” I waited until he obeyed. Another odd symptom he was displaying.
I leaned down, put my face close to hers and said, so only she could hear, “I know what you are, Georgette. A liar, a manipulator, and most importantly, an abuser. I would end you right here, but unlike you I have certain ethics I must abide by. That doesn’t mean you’re safe. Watch your step. Stay away from Jordie and Jack, or I will take you out.”
She didn’t show any fear, but whined, “You don’t understand. I just want to spend time with my daughter and Jack—”
I laughed. “Cut the bad acting job. If you’re looking for sympathy, you won’t find any in Destiny. The quicker you get out of town, the safer you’ll be.”
I did see a flash of anger then. She pushed away from the building, crossed the street to an old truck I recognized as Fritz’ and drive away.
“Where is everybody?” I asked Jordie in the front room.
“Back there in Aurora’s bedroom.” Grumpily, she said, “You shouldn’t have talked to my mother like that. She was just staying with me until someone got here.”
I took a pass on responding to that, realizing it would get me nowhere, and found Phoebe and Tempe next to Aurora’s cot with Dylan nervously pacing. Phoebe pulled back Aurora’s eyelids and grimaced. She looked at Jordie. “You weren’t exaggerating were you, child?”
Jordie shook her head glancing at Tempe. When the reality of Tempe’s condition sank in, she gasped and went to Tempe’s side. “Are you okay? You look awful.”
“I’ll be okay, sweetie.” Tempe tried to smile though she didn’t look like she had the energy. I spied the boxes, stickers and hangers on the counter. “Were you working, Jordie?”
“Yes, ma’am. All this stuff came in Saturday and Ms. Aurora didn’t feel well enough to put it out.”
Aurora was lying in the dark with the exception of a soft white candle glowing on her bedside table. Phoebe’s worry unsettled even me. Somehow, even after everything that had happened, I hadn’t been able to imagine anything Aurora couldn’t handle. Or Dylan, and look at them.
A shiver ran through Tempe and her knees gave out. I helped her to the extra chaise lounge. “How is she, Mother?” she asked.
Phoebe looked at Jordie, then the rest of us, choosing her words carefully. “She’s in worse shape than you were. I’m afraid Jordie’s assessment was accurate.”
Tempe’s shoulders sagged. I knew what she was feeling. Aurora had been a mentor, friend, even a mother to her while Phoebe and Dutch were playing out their little drama. But Aurora hadn’t been just her friend and mentor, she was important to the Paramortal community at large. She had knowledge and guidance we needed.
Aurora’s pasty skin revealed the veins beneath, and her chest didn’t appear to rise. In fact, her body had sunken into the covers. It didn’t look like she could last long.
Being a woman of action, I wanted to strike out at someone, fight, yell, but none of that would help Aurora. Tempe must have felt the same. She said, “Do something, Phoebe.”
I wasn’t sure Phoebe even heard her. She was stroking Aurora’s gray streaked hair, smoothing it over and over. I’d forgotten that Aurora was one of Dutch and Phoebe’s oldest friends. “Vel Lua. Don’t give up, my dear friend.”
Tempe scratched at her wrist then pulled her sleeve up. She looked down and gasped. I peered over her shoulder. The wormy tattoo that had resembled a child’s poster paint creation was wiggling out of her skin. The bright yellow eyes blinked.
Seeing Tempe’s horrified expression, Phoebe grabbed her hand, studying her wrist. “The Naga charm! Come closer, Tempe.” Seeing that Tempe lacked the physical strength to follow her instruction, Phoebe said, “I’m sorry, daughter, let me help you. This may be our only chance.”
Our chance for what, I wondered.
Phoebe tugged Tempe up and pulled her onto the bed beside Aurora. “This little worm she gave you is a healing charm. If I can figure out how to share it with Aurora…” She reached into her pocket. “Maybe I should cut—”
“No!” Dylan appeared out of nowhere, and faster than I’d have believed him able in his condition, snatched Tempe’s hand from Aurora’s. What was he doing?
He cursed immediately and dropped her hand. “What was that? Something bit me.” He frowned at his wrist, scratching it with the other.
Phoebe reached for his hand determined to gain control of the situation. The wormy tattoo that had risen on Tempe’s arm now appeared on Dylan’s wrist. Before it could bury under again, Phoebe tugged him off balance, and pressed his wrist to the nearest exposed skin on Aurora, her arm. Aurora’s body twitched violently when his hand made contact.
“Mother, what’s happening?” Tempe’s voice was weak. She fell back against the chair, eyes closed.
“Tempe,” I shouted. “Stay awake.”
She whispered, “It’s gone…”
Something had left her all right. She looked like the starch or whatever strength she’d regained in the last hour had been sucked out of her. I turned to Phoebe. “What’s going on? What have you done?”
Phoebe suddenly had too many patients. Her hands traveled from Aurora to Tempe to Dylan checking each one. She clasped Tempe’s shoulder, and asked Dylan how he felt.
I turned his big hand over in mine to check his pulse. His skin was bleeding where he’d clawed at it. “Don’t, it itches,” he said with a whine.
I aimed a pointed look at Phoebe. “I don’t see anything except where he’s scratched himself.”
Phoebe sighed. “I’m not an expert in these things, but I believe some of the charm transferred from Tempe to Aurora through Dylan. Whether it was enough to do any good is anyone’s guess.” She squeezed Aurora’s hand.
Dylan asked, “What about me?” He sniffled, continuing to scrub his wrist against his jeans.
“Dylan, get a grip!” I said.
“Yeah, well, let that thing bite you. It hurt.” I waited for Phoebe’s answer, but she studied Dylan for a long moment as if his whining and child-like attitude were almost as distressing as the others’ symptoms. Granted, big tough, taciturn Dylan was nowhere to be found, but he didn’t seem ill.
<
br /> Phoebe’s gaze moved to Tempe as she stroked her brow. She murmured softly, “I just don’t know enough. I may have just doomed my friends and my own daughter.” There was real worry on her face now and my own stomach clenched. “My hope is that the further we get toward moonrise, the more Tempe, Aurora—and Dylan—will be able to draw on their own natural healing to overcome the effects of the power-down.”
I glanced at Jordie who suddenly looked as if she’d landed on another planet and was hoping to be rescued. “I have an idea, Phoebe. Maybe Tempe’s worse because we removed her from Harmony’s proximity to the Forge. Since we’ve done what we can here…”
Phoebe’s head snapped up. “Excellent thinking, Montana. We will all benefit from its effects. Let’s get Aurora and Tempe into Dylan’s truck.”
I turned to Dylan. “Dylan, can—” But Dylan was still distracted by his ow-ee, so I scooped Aurora up and spoke firmly to him. “Dylan, pick up Tempe and carry her to the truck.” He didn’t even look up. “Forget it. Phoebe, dig around in his pocket and find his keys.”
Dylan was getting worse. What awareness he’d had, was flagging. “I think you’re right, Phoebe. That charm seems to have gone straight through Dylan and maybe stole a little of his mojo to donate to Aurora.” Goddess, what had Phoebe done?
Phoebe managed to get Tempe on her feet and asked Jordie to help support Tempe out to the SUV. “Get up, Dylan.” She turned his big hand over in hers and placed the keys in his palm. “Go! Unlock your car. Get in the back seat.” Her words were slow and distinct, and finally he obeyed.
Jordie placed one of Tempe’s arms around her waist while Phoebe supported her other side. I picked Aurora up and we moved slowly to the street.
Keeping my eye on Dylan until he got into the back seat, I said, “Jordie, after we get everyone into the truck, call your father and tell him we’re going back to Harmony. All of us.”
She nodded.
After settling onto the front seat with Aurora I concentrated on cushioning her against the speed bumps as Phoebe drove Dylan’s vehicle toward Harmony Lane. I looked over my shoulder at my two friends in the backseat, Dylan with eyes closed leaning against the headrest and Tempe, against Jordie. “Dylan doesn’t look good…” my voice trailed off as Phoebe nodded.
