by Riley Storm
A rock came hurtling out of the smoke in the direction the wings had gone, delivering a glancing blow to his shoulder. Braz spun away, unable to keep from crying out. The wound wasn’t bad, it had just surprised him more than anything. He hit the ground and tumbled over several times, coming to a halt just shy of the mangled truck.
The sound I heard must have been whoever it was taking flight, changing their position.
The heat from the wreck beat at him. It should have been a comforting feeling, but it was an angry, evil heat that threatened to burn his skin.
He blinked and began to get to his feet when he realized something. This low, he could almost see through the smoke cloud. Of course! It wasn’t reaching quite to the ground thanks to the wind, and the slow rising of the hot air.
It took but a moment of scanning for him to see movement that he wouldn’t have spotted before. Braz got to a crouch, spread his wings wide and in two quick steps picked up enough moment to let his wings carry him silently across the remaining distance.
He pulled his arms back, fists blazing with brilliant fire as he prepared to lay the smackdown. The smoke parted abruptly, revealing that he was closer than expected due to the other shifter advancing.
The two hit, colliding awkwardly and falling to the ground in a pile of limbs and wings.
Braz kicked out hard first, hitting the enemy shifter in the side, sending him skidding away while Braz pulled himself upright.
“Now you’re going to pay for what you did here,” Braz snarled.
The other shifter got to his feet slowly, keeping his head down most of the time. Now that he looked up, the Aterna dragon got his first good look at his foe.
“Victor?” he gasped. This was no lackey that had come to fight, it was their enemy himself! All the other shifters Logan had put into place to take him down, and he’d come right where they least expected him.
Only Logan’s unexpected absence from the compound, because Grace had insisted they go flying, had allowed him to respond in proper fashion. If he hadn’t been so close and already airborne, who knows what might have happened to the innocents.
“You sonofabitch,” Braz snarled and advanced.
A blinding stream of fire came at him. It bobbed and weaved with incredible speed, a blueish tinge at its core indicating it was hotter than normal.
Braz flung himself to the side. The flame hit his wing, burning a hole through the membrane. Grunting, Braz tucked the wings in tight to his back, keeping them out of the way.
“We know that you’re not Victor,” he growled, striking back with a pair of fiery torrents that his foe ducked away from. “The jig is up. It’s over. Surrender now and you might live.”
His opponent snorted, but didn’t otherwise respond.
Well, not with words. Braz’s eyes went wide and he thrust both hands out front as a wave of fire rushed at him.
Counter-flames erupted from Braz’s hands in a dome-shaped arc that extended five feet out from him. It shuddered and contracted as Not-Victor’s attack slammed home, pushing Braz’s defenses back on him a handful of inches at a time.
It’s so hot. How is it so hot? Braz thought as he tried to come up with a plan. It’s like the flames weren’t even natural! He’d never encountered anything like it. The air was growing hot and dry with so much fire consuming the oxygen.
Braz wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hold out. The fire would push him back, overwhelm him, and burn him to a crisp. Then Victor would be free to wreak havoc on the compound. On the innocents and children housed in its core.
On Grace.
The Aterna dragon’s head snapped up as righteous fury burned away the cold fear that had been overtaking him. The flames pouring from his palms redoubled in strength and pushed the attacker back.
“She,” he grunted, taking a step forward as his flames roared higher and brighter in the early morning light.
“Is.”
Braz’s flames lost their reddish hue, swiftly transitioning through orange and becoming a bright yellow.
“Mine!” he roared, feeling more in tune with the fire than he ever had before.
Yellow-white flames gushed from his hands in an unstoppable torrent. The protective dome became a battering ram that Braz flung across the distance with every ounce of strength he possessed.
It swept in on the pretender, swatting aside his strike and slamming into Not-Victor. It picked the imposter up, flung him backwards and into the air. He flipped end over-end as he went.
The trajectory was altered when Victor’s head impacted upon the corner of the roof, snapping the creature’s neck and sending him into a spin that took him up and over the roof before depositing the body on the far side.
Braz knew he was dead, nothing could survive that massive trauma to the head, but he had to be sure.
Spreading his wings, he prepared to launch after it, to finally figure out what was going on.
“Braz!” a voice called from behind him.
He turned and sagged with relief to see Logan jumping out of a truck, a handful of others with him. They had arrived. Too late for the fight, but in time to help with everything else.
“The body,” he growled, pointing, and the pair took off through the house.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Grace
“Are you sure this is the best place to be right now?” she asked, the pair of them crouching down next to the house on an exterior corner, walls on two sides, open space and the drop off the cliff in front of them.
“The house is solid stone,” Addy explained. “Even dragonfire would take a long time to burn through it. The others, those inside, they’ll have gone down into the shelters already.”
“Shouldn’t we join them?” Grace asked, ducking even lower as the sounds of fighting reached them.
Braz…
“The doors will be sealed by now. Clarice will be leading them deep into the tunnels, through the escape routes,” Addy said, positioning Grace between herself and the walls. “Stay behind me.”
Grace watched as the old woman’s arm shivered before dark ochre scales rippled down it from fingertips to shoulder. Flame burned in her fist, a bright yellow-orange.
An explosion reverberated throughout the entire house. She could feel it in the stone.
“Braz,” she gasped, half-rising.
“Stay down,” Addy growled, moving surprisingly fast for the old woman, taking Grace by the shoulder and pushing her back down into a crouch. “I gave my word to that whippersnapper that I would take care of you, and I intend to keep that word, regardless of what you think. So stay put.”
Grace gulped. “Okay,” she said, ignoring the flames dancing in Addy’s eyes.
“Don’t worry that pretty little face of yours,” Addy cackled. “Braz is a firecracker, he’ll dispatch whoever did this. All they did was go and piss him off.”
“Maybe,” Grace said, not entirely believing it. “But accidents happen. I just worry about him.”
“That’s cause you love him.”
“Damn straight,” she growled.
You get your sweet ass back to me in one piece mister, or I swear to god I will hunt you down and make your life miserable, afterlife or no afterlife!
Threat made, she proceeded to hunker down in the corner as the sound of a great battle filled the air.
A mighty roar sounded.
“That’s Braz,” she hissed, unable to tell what he was saying.
There was the sound of something bouncing on the roof above them. Both Addy and Grace looked up.
A moment later the broken body of an unknown person tumbled over the edge of the roof and landed with a wet thud twenty feet in front of them.
“Stay back,” Addy hissed, her fire burning hotter and in both fists now as she raised her hands, ready to strike.
“I think they’re dead,” Grace said, peering around the side. “Who is it?”
“Victor,” Addy said quietly. “I didn’t even know he was
here. That’s not good.”
Grace stiffened. “Victor? Clan Head Victor? No, that’s a good thing. A very good thing.”
“What? Why?”
“He’s a fake. The real one was found by Logan and Braz yesterday, dead, body stuffed in a freezer.”
Addy sniffed. “Guy was an asshole, but damn that’s cold.”
Grace wondered if the pun was intentional or not, decided now wasn’t the time to be asking about that.
“Come on,” she said, sneaking around Addy. “We need to see who it really was. Who was behind the mask!”
She crouch-ran to Victor’s side, ignoring Addy’s commands to come back. Grace could feel it, could feel that the threat was over. She just knew, somehow.
“Come off,” she grunted, pulling on the skin at the base of the neck. “Jeez this is on good.”
“What is?” Addy asked, coming up next to her, looking around warily.
“The mask that the imposter is wearing. It’s really high quality. It feels like real skin.”
Addy crouched down next to her, eyed the corpse, then growled. “That’s because it is real skin.”
“What?”
They both turned at the third voice, Addy’s hands coming up, blazing with light.
“Braz!” Grace cried, running forward to fling her arms around her man, squeezing him tight.
“Gentle,” he hissed. “I’m a little tender. Thanks.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, then stepped forward. She went with him, noticing Logan there as well.
“What do you mean it’s real skin Addy?” Logan asked, reaching out and pinching the neck skin of the corpse as well. “Did we kill the real Victor? Was that a dummy stashed away, a fake?”
“Not likely,” Addy said quietly.
“What are you talking about?” Logan growled, wanting a straight answer.
“In the waning days of the war,” Addy said quietly. “We struggled mightily to contain the Fae. They were cunning, real cunning. Their leader, a Fae Lord, he was using all the tricks in his book. Real nasty piece of work that one. He’d taken the full brunt of the nuke the military dropped. Was kind of pissed about that.”
Grace’s hand found Braz’s, and she gave it a squeeze while they listened.
“The radiation was having all sorts of effects on him, but one of them was making his mind far more dastardly than any Fae’s has the right to be.”
Below them the corpse began to shiver unnaturally. Everyone but Addy backed away.
“He decided that the best way to break our lines, wasn’t to come at us head on. We were too strong by that point. So he sent these nasty things at us,” Addy growled, her hand burning brighter, illuminating the corpse’s face.
Everyone around gasped as it shivered and began to change. The ears growing longer, more pointed. The nose flattening against the skull while the hair receded under the now greenish skin.
“Shapeshifters,” Addy spat. “They would imitate our people, or more often, the humans. Taking on characteristics. The more powerful ones could even imitate dragons. Flight, fire, everything. It was a disaster. We nearly lost the war within a week because of the damage they did. The lines around the mountain were almost penetrated.”
Grace watched with morbid fascination as the transformation completed itself.
“The fake Victor was a shapeshifter?” Logan mused.
“That would explain the unnatural fire I was fighting,” Braz said.
Grace squeezed his arm tightly, realizing she’d come closer than expected to losing him. But he was okay now. It was over.
“The Gate Breach,” Braz said suddenly, looking up sharply at the little gathering. “That’s what came through. A shapeshifter.”
“That’s not good,” Addy said. “Not good at all.”
“Maybe. But it’s dead now,” Logan said. “And there hasn’t been a gate breach since.”
“Perhaps,” Addy agreed, standing up, stretching with an audible groan. “But you need to wonder, who sent it?”
Then she ambled off back to the house. Clearly, whatever the issue, it wasn’t the problem for an old lady to solve.
“You’ve done well,” Logan said.
Behind them a plume of smoke continued to rise. The house had taken considerable damage, and Braz, while being upright, was still hurting.
“I’ll take it from here,” the clan leader promised. “I need to meet with the remaining clan leaders. Tell them what’s going on. We’re in the clear for now but…”
“But it won’t last, will it?” Braz asked, pulling Grace in tight to his side.
“Unlikely. Take a couple hours. Then we’re going to go to Mount Atrox and search Victor’s quarters. Maybe we’ll find more there. Any information as to what’s going on would be helpful.”
Grace stood, pulling Braz to his feet. “Don’t worry, I’ll feed him, make sure his mind is on straight so he’s of use to you,” she promised, giving Braz a wink he knew well.
“Good. Thank you Grace. I’m happy to have you around. Sorry that the place is a bit beat up right now,” Logan said, a smile ghosting across his face momentarily. “But we’ll rebuild. We’ll recover. It’s just going to take time.”
The trio looked at one another silently. Braz was the first to nod.
“And for now, we have that time,” he said calmly. “Let’s make the most of it.”
“Agreed,” Logan said solemnly.
“Come on,” Grace said, tucking her arm through Braz’s. “Let’s get you cleaned up and fed.”
“Yes ma’am,” he said, following along without a smile.
Inside, Grace breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
It was over. It was finally over.
And during it, I might have just discovered the last, missing piece of my journey…
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Braz
With Victor dead, Clan Atrox was in shambles. When the group of Aterna showed up on their doorstep with the body of Victor, the body of the shapeshifter, and a statement that they were going to search the clan leader’s quarters, nobody came forward to stop them.
“They’re in bad shape,” Braz commented to Logan as he put a shoulder into the door and burst it open, revealing Victor’s office.
“You noticed that too?” Logan remarked as they, along with Pace and Zavier, another Clan Aterna shifter, spread out to begin looking through everything.
“Yeah. I wonder what’s been going on here? What has that damn shapeshifter been doing to his clan?” Braz growled.
The dragons generally did not do much intermingling between clans. Occasionally a female shifter would find a mate and switch clans, but generally speaking, they kept to themselves outside of annual meetings and official business. There wasn’t active dislike, they were just…different.
None of that meant Braz wished harm on his fellows. Seeing the subdued members of Clan Atrox, the slumped shoulders and distinct lack of pride, he felt anger again at what the shapeshifter had done.
The discord sown between clans had failed, but whereas Clan Aterna was looking inward now, rebuilding its home, solidifying its roots, it appeared Clan Atrox was in shambles. Trying to come to terms with the fact that a fake leader had been lying to them for weeks. It was going to be a trying time for them, Braz was sure of it.
“What exactly are we looking for?” Zavier asked as he pawed through books on the bookshelf in front of him.
Logan meanwhile was slowly taking apart the desk, examining everything on it. “Anything that provides any insight to the past four months.”
Braz pulled open the filing cabinet on the near wall. It had three drawers to it. He wasn’t looking forward to going through them. A casual perusal of everything in the top drawer told him it was all older stuff. Worth going back over eventually, but things from years before weren’t likely relevant.
He pulled open the middle drawer, finding much the same. The bottom drawer came out next.
“That’s odd,” he muttered, giv
ing a tug on the drawer. It stayed where it was.
“What?” Logan asked, looking up at the tone of Braz’s voice.
“The bottom drawer here. It only comes out three-quarters of the way of the other two. And it’s the bottom drawer.”
“And this book is hollow,” Zavier said, pulling it open. “Looks like we’ve got hidden compartments to find. He dumped the contents on the desk, but it was only a wad of cash and a few small, spectacularly cut gemstones. A hidden stash, nothing more.
Braz meanwhile put one hand on the filing cabinet, and gave a rough yank on the bottom drawer. Flimsy metal screeched and it ripped free. Behind it was a false back wall. Grunting he got to his feet and pulled the filing cabinet away from the wall.
To his surprise it rolled. He’d not noticed that it was on wheels. They were cleverly disguised, and required a good amount of force—probably so they wouldn’t roll when the drawers were opened, he figured.
“Well, how interesting,” he told the room, pulling open the compartment. A sheaf of papers and documents came with it.
He took one look at the top one and tossed them down on the desk in front of Victor in disgust.
“They were working together then,” Logan said quietly. “That about seals it.”
Braz nodded. The top document had the official logo of the Gate Guard on it, and at the bottom it was signed by its now disgraced, and deceased, former Commander, Viko Atrox.
“So Viko has been in contact with someone,” Braz mused. “Somehow he was seduced into agreeing to help them. He set it up so this creature could come through. To what end though? Why?”
“More power?” Logan suggested.
“Maybe,” Braz agreed.
Pace merely shrugged, not having much to say about anything as he stood watch at the door in case any of the Atrox shifters decided they didn’t like another clan pawing through their former leader’s office.
They searched the rest of the documents and tore apart the office, but all they could find was bits and pieces linking the four known players together. The shapeshifter acting as Victor at the top, with Viko right next to him.
