by L. J. Smith
And he had eyes of obsidian.
Totally opaque.
Shiny silver-black, with nothing clear or transparent about them. They revealed nothing; they simply threw light back at anyone who looked into them. They were the eyes of a monster, and every one of Keller’s five hundred voluntary muscles froze in fear.
She didn’t need to hear the roar that was far below the pitch that human ears could pick up. She didn’t need to see the swirl of dark energy that flared like a red-tinged black aura around him. She knew already, instinctively, and she tried to get the breath to yell a warning to Winnie.
There was no time.
She could only watch as the boy’s face turned toward Winnie and power exploded out of him.
He did it so casually. Keller could tell that it was only a flick of his mind, like a horse slapping its tail at a fly. But the dark power slammed into Winnie and sent her flying through the air, arms and legs outstretched, until she hit a wall covered with display plates and clocks. The crash was tremendous.
Winnie! Keller almost yelled it out loud.
Winnie fell behind the cash register counter, out of Keller’s line of sight. Keller couldn’t tell if she were alive or not. The cashier who had been standing behind the counter went running and screaming toward the back of the shop. The customers scattered, some following the cashier, some dashing for the exit.
Keller hung in the doorway a second longer as they streamed out around her. Then she reeled away to stand with her back against the window of the next shop, breathing hard. There were coils of ice in her guts.
A dragon.
He was a dragon.
CHAPTER 2
They’d gotten a dragon.
Keller’s heart was pounding.
Somehow, somewhere, the people of the Night World had found one and awakened him. And they’d paid him—bribed him—to join their side. Keller didn’t even want to imagine what the price might have been. Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed hard.
Dragons were the oldest and most powerful of the shapeshifters, and the most evil. They had all gone to sleep thirty thousand years ago—or, rather, they had been put to sleep by the witches. Keller didn’t know exactly how it had been done, but all the old legends said the world had been better off since.
And now one was back.
But he might not be fully awake yet. From the glimpse she’d had, his body was still cold, not much heat radiating from it. He’d be sluggish, not mentally alert.
It was the chance of a lifetime.
Keller’s decision was made in that instant. There was no time to think about it—and no need. The inhabitants of the Night World wanted to destroy the human world. And there were plenty of them to do it, vampires and dark witches and ghouls. But this was something in another league altogether. With a dragon on their side, the Night World would easily crush Circle Daybreak and all other forces that wanted to save the humans from the end of the world that was coming. It would be no contest.
And as for that little girl in there, Iliana the Witch Child, the Wild Power meant to help save humankind—she would get swatted like a bug if she didn’t obey the dragon.
Keller couldn’t let that happen.
Even as Keller was thinking it, she was changing. It was strange to do it in a public place, in front of people. It went against all her most deeply ingrained training. But she didn’t have time to dwell on that.
It felt good. It always did. Painful in a nice way, like the feeling of having a tight bandage removed. A release.
Her body was changing. For a moment, she didn’t feel like anything—she almost had no body. She was fluid, a being of pure energy, with no more fixed form than a candle flame. She was utterly…free.
And then her shoulders were pulling in, and her arms were becoming more sinewy. Her fingers were retracting, but in their place long, curved claws were extending. Her legs were twisting, the joints changing. And from the sensitive place at the end of her spine, the place that always felt unfinished when she was in human form, something long and flexible was springing. It lashed behind her with fierce joy.
Her jumpsuit was gone. The reason was simple: she wore only clothes made out of the hair of other shapeshifters. Even her boots were made of the hide of a dead shifter. Now both were being replaced by her own fur, thick black velvet with darker black rosettes. She felt complete and whole in it.
Her arms—now her front legs—dropped to the ground, her paws hitting with a soft but heavy thump. Her face prickled with sensitivity; there were long, slender whiskers extending from her cheeks. Her tufted ears twitched alertly.
A rasping growl rose in her chest, trying to escape from her throat. She held it back—that was easy and instinctive. A panther was by nature the best stalker in the world.
The next thing she did was instinctive, too. She took a moment to gauge the distance from herself to the black-haired boy. She took a step or two forward, her shoulders low. And then she jumped.
Swift. Supple. Silent. Her body was in motion. It was a high, bounding leap designed to take a victim without an instant of warning. She landed on the dark boy’s back, clinging with razor claws.
Her jaws clamped on the back of his neck. It was the way panthers killed, by biting through the spine.
The boy yelled in rage and pain, grabbing at her as her weight knocked him to the ground. It didn’t do any good. Her claws were too deep in his flesh to be shaken off, and her jaws were tightening with bone-crushing pressure. A little blood spilled into her mouth, and she licked it up automatically with a rough, pointed tongue.
More yelling. She was dimly aware that the vampires were attacking her, trying to wrench her away, and that the security guards were yelling. She ignored it all. Nothing mattered but taking the life under her claws.
She heard a sudden rumble from the body beneath her. It was lower in pitch than anything human ears could pick up, but to Keller it was both soft and frighteningly loud.
Then the world exploded in agony.
The dragon had caught hold of her fur just above the right shoulder. Dark energy was crackling into her, searing her. It was the same black power he’d used against Winnie, except that now he had direct contact.
The pain was scalding, nauseating. Every nerve ending in Keller’s body seemed to be on fire, and her shoulder was a solid red blaze. It made her muscles convulse involuntarily and spread a metallic taste through her mouth, but it didn’t make her let go. She held on grimly, letting the waves of energy roll through her, trying to detach her mind from the pain.
What was frightening was not just the power but the sense of the dragon’s mind beneath it. Keller could feel a terrible coldness. A core of mindless hatred and evil that seemed to reach back into the mists of time. This creature was old. And although Keller couldn’t tell what he wanted with the present age, she knew what he was focused on right now.
Killing her. That was all he cared about.
And of course he was going to succeed. Keller had known that from the beginning.
But not before I kill you, she thought.
She had to hurry, though. There almost certainly were other Night People in the mall. These guys could call for reinforcements, and they would probably get them.
You can’t…make me…let go, she thought.
She was fighting to close her jaws. He was much tougher than a normal human. Panther jaws could crush the skull of a young buffalo. And right now, she could hear muscle crunching, but still she couldn’t finish him.
Hang on…hang on…
Black pain…blinding…
She was losing consciousness.
For Winnie, she thought.
Sudden strength filled her. The pain didn’t matter anymore. She tossed her head, trying to break his neck, wrenching it back and forth.
The body underneath her convulsed violently. She could feel the little lapsing in it, the weakening that meant death was close. Keller felt a surge of fierce joy.
And th
en she was aware of something else. Someone was pulling her off the dragon. Not in the fumbling way the thugs had. This person was doing it skillfully, touching pressure points to make her claws retract, even getting a finger into her mouth, under the short front teeth between the lethal canines.
No! Keller thought. From her panther throat came a short, choking snarl. She lashed out with her back legs, trying to rip the person’s guts out.
No. The voice didn’t come in through Keller’s ears. It was in her mind. A boy’s voice. And it wasn’t afraid, despite the fact that she was now scrabbling weakly, still trying to turn his stomach to spaghetti. It was concerned and anxious but not afraid. Please—you have to let go.
Even as he said it, he was pushing more pressure points. Keller was already weak. Now, all at once, she saw stars. She felt her hold on the dragon loosen.
And then she was being jerked backward, and she was falling. A hundred and ten pounds of black panther was landing on whoever had yanked her free.
Dizzy…
Her vision was blurred, and her body felt like rubber. She hardly had enough strength to twist her head toward the boy who had pulled her away.
Who was he? Who?
Her eyes met blazing green-gold ones.
Almost the eyes of a leopard. It gave Keller a jolt. But the rest of the boy was different. Dark gold hair over a rather pale and strained face with perfectly sculpted features. Human, of course. And those eyes seemed to be blazing with worry and intensity rather than animal ferocity.
Not many people could look at an angry panther like that.
She heard his mental voice again. Are you all right?
And then, for just an instant, something happened. It was as if some barrier had been punctured. Keller felt not just his voice but his worry inside her head. She could feel…him.
His name…Galen. And he’s someone born to command, she thought. He understands animals. Another shapeshifter?
But I can’t feel what animal he turns into. And there’s no bloodthirstiness at all….
She didn’t understand it, and her panther brain wasn’t in the mood to try. It was grounded in the here and now, and all it wanted was to finish what she had started.
She wrenched her eyes away from Galen and looked at the dragon.
Yes, he was still alive but badly wounded. A little snarl worked out of Keller’s throat. The vampire thugs were still alive, too; one was picking up the injured dragon and hauling him away.
“Come on!” he was shouting in a voice sharp with panic. “Before that cat recovers—”
“But the girl!” the second vampire said. “We don’t have the girl.” He looked around. Iliana was standing by a display of porcelain figures, looking just as pale and graceful as any of them. She had both hands at her throat and seemed to be in shock.
The second vampire started toward her.
No, Keller thought. But she couldn’t get her legs to move. She could only lie helplessly and stare with burning eyes.
“No!” a voice beside her said, out loud this time. Galen was jumping up. He got between the vampire and Iliana.
The vampire grinned, a particularly nasty grin. “You don’t look like a fighter to me, pretty boy.”
It wasn’t exactly true, Keller thought. Galen wasn’t pretty; he was beautiful. With that gold hair and his coloring, he looked like a prince from a storybook. A rather young and inexperienced prince. He stood his ground, his expression grim and determined.
“I won’t let you get to her,” he said steadily.
Who the hell is this guy? Keller thought.
Iliana, pale and wide-eyed, glanced up at him, too. And then Keller saw her…melt. Her drawn features softened; her lips parted. Her eyes seemed to quiver with light. She had been cowering away from the vampire, but now her body relaxed just a little.
He certainly looked more like a champion defender than Keller had. He was clean, for one thing. Keller’s fur was matted with her own blood and the dragon’s. More, she couldn’t help the little raspy snarls of rage and despair she was making, showing dripping teeth in a red-stained muzzle.
Too bad he was about to be slaughtered.
He wasn’t a fighter. Keller had seen the inside of his mind, and she knew he didn’t have the tiger instinct. The vampire was going to massacre him.
The vampire started forward.
And a voice from the front of the store said, “Hold it right there.”
CHAPTER 3
Keller turned her head quickly.
Nissa was standing there, cool and imperturbable as always, one hand on her hip. Her short mink-colored hair wasn’t even ruffled; her eyes, just a shade or two darker, were steady. And she was holding an ironwood fighting stick with a very sharp point.
Keller growled faintly in relief. You couldn’t ask Nissa to be creative—her mind didn’t work that way. But on any question of logic, she was unbeatable, and she had nerves of ice. More important right now, she was a superb fighter.
“If you want to play, why don’t you try me?” she suggested, and whipped the fighting stick around expertly a few times. It whistled in the air, traced a complicated figure, and ended up casually across her shoulder. Then she slowly extended the point toward the vampire’s throat.
“Yeah, and don’t leave me out.” This voice was husky and shaky but still grim. It came from behind the counter. Winnie was pulling herself up. She coughed once, then stood straight, facing the vampire. Energy, orange and pulsating, flared between her cupped hands. Witch power.
You’re alive, Keller thought. She couldn’t suppress the flash of relief.
The vampire looked from one girl to the other. Then he glanced at Keller, who was lying on her side, feebly trying to make her legs work. Her tail lashed furiously.
“Come on!” the other vampire shouted. He was staggering under the weight of the dragon, heading for the door. “Let’s get Azhdeha out of here. He’s the most important thing.”
The first vampire hesitated one instant, then whirled and plunged after his friend. Together, they hustled the dragon out into the mall.
Then they were gone.
Keller gave one final gasping snarl and felt herself change. This time, it felt more like a snail falling out of a shell. Her claws dissolved, her tail withered, and she slumped into her human body.
“Boss! Are you okay?” Winnie came toward her, a little unsteadily.
Keller raised her head, black hair falling on either side to the floor. She pushed herself up with her arms and looked around, taking stock.
The shop was quiet. It was also a wreck. Winnie’s impact with the wall had knocked off most of the decorative plates and clocks there. Keller’s fight with the dragon had trashed a lot of the shelves. There were shattered Christmas ornaments everywhere, little glittering fragments of scarlet and holly green and royal purple. It was like being in a giant kaleidoscope.
And outside, chaos was gathering. The entire fight had only taken about five minutes, but all the time it had been going on, people had been running away from the shop and screaming. Keller had noticed them; she had simply filed them away in her mind as unimportant. There had been nothing she could do about them.
Now, there were security officers closing in, and someone had undoubtedly called the police.
She pushed with her arms again and managed to stand up.
“Nissa.” It hurt her throat to speak. “Where’s the car?”
“Right down there.” Nissa pointed at the floor. “Directly below us, parked outside the Mrs. Fields cookie store.”
“Okay. Let’s get Iliana out.” Keller looked at the young girl with the shimmering hair who as yet hadn’t spoken a single word. “Can you walk?”
Iliana stared at her. She didn’t say anything. Stunned and frightened, Keller guessed. Well, a lot had happened in the last few minutes.
“I know this all seems bizarre to you, and you’re probably wondering who we are. I’ll explain everything. But right now, we have to get ou
t of here. Okay?”
Iliana shrank a little, trembling.
Not exactly a hero, Keller thought. Or quick on the uptake. Then she decided she was being unfair. This girl was the Witch Child; she undoubtedly had hidden strengths.
“Come on,” Galen said to Iliana gently. “She’s right; it isn’t safe here.”
Iliana looked up at him earnestly. She seemed about to agree. Then she gave a little shiver, shut her eyes, and fainted.
Galen caught her as she fell.
Keller stared.
“She’s too pure to deal with this kind of stuff,” Winnie said defensively. “Violence and all. It’s not the same as being chicken.”
It was at that exact moment that Keller could pinpoint her first real doubts about the new Wild Power.
Galen looked down at the girl who lay in his arms like a broken lily. He looked at Keller.
“I—”
“You take her; we’ll surround you and cover you,” Keller said, cutting him off. She knew her hair was in complete disarray, a wild cyclone of black around her. Her sleek jumpsuit was torn and stained, and she was clutching her right shoulder, which still throbbed in agony. But she must have looked fairly commanding, because Galen didn’t say another word, just nodded and started toward the door.
Nissa led the way in front of him. Winnie and Keller fell in behind. They were ready to fight, but when the security guards with walkie-talkies saw Nissa whirling her stick, they backed away. The ordinary people, curious onlookers attracted by all the noise, not only backed away but ran. Lots of them screamed.
“Go,” Keller said. “Fast. Go.”
They made it to Mrs. Fields without anybody trying to stop them.
A girl with a red apron flattened herself against a wall as they thrust their way behind the counter and into the sanctum full of industrial-sized ovens in the back. A gangly boy dropped a tray with a clang, and lumps of raw cookie dough scattered on the floor.
