Onyx Gryphon: A Paranormal Shifter Romance (Gryphons vs Dragons Book 4)

by Ruby Ryan

  Sebastian and the dragon screamed in terrible synchronicity.

  I looked up and saw him take a step toward me, knife held out ahead of him.

  He paused, eyes widening with confusion, then realization.

  And then the dragon won.

  Sebastian jerked as if he’d been shot, then his head was thrown back and his body went rigid as if by an electrical current. He tilted his head back and roared at the ceiling, his knife dropping to the ground with a thud. The passengers stared at him with confusion, a momentary lull in the chaos.

  The dragon’s clothes stretched, and tore, and then ripped off his body completely. His skin darkened like ink poured onto clean paper, and scales like cracking bits of lava appeared from his navel to his chest. Then his torso expanded, his ribs cracking one by one like terrible popcorn kernels, and in the blink of an eye his body had expanded to fill the entire width of the car.

  The screams of horror from the passengers returned tenfold.

  Men scrambled to get out of the way, lest they be crushed between the dragon’s body and the walls. His legs materialized and expanded, ripping chairs right out of the floor. Behind him, I saw the other henchmen throw down their guns and flee from the horror.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off it, a terrible and unnatural sight that would haunt me for the rest of my life, and my legs carried me backwards as if I were floating.

  With a groan, the train car peeled open like an aluminum can. The windows shattered one by one, raining shards down on the fleeing passengers. The weight of the dragon caused the car to tilt slightly, which drew a more frenzied scream from the crowd for a moment, but miraculously it remained on the tracks.

  Through the open air above me I watched the dragon stretch his long neck, flexing muscles of hate and death. Then his head curled down to gaze at the car.

  And at me.

  Finally getting a hold of myself, I turned and sprinted through the door as the dragon roared anew.

  24

  ORLANDO

  My sudden appearance caused the helicopters a great deal of distress.

  The whine of their engines changed in pitch as they gained altitude, putting distance between them and me, some great flying monster they probably couldn’t understand. I could almost sense their indecision: should they follow the hijacked train, or the mythical creature that had just emerged from it?

  But I ignored them, because I had to reach the totem.

  I followed the empty tracks toward the feeling. It was like a sixth sense: I could have closed my eyes and spun around and been able to point to exactly where it was. Using my powerful eagle vision, I could see the general area ahead. We were past the urban sprawl of the Chicago area, at the edge of where farmland began to the south. There were edges of trees along the tracks, and the totem was somewhere among them.

  Only a few hundred feet farther. But none of it would matter if the next part of the plan didn’t work…

  The feeling of the dragon shifting was like an atom bomb going off behind me. It created a shockwave in the air, and I convulsed, muscles going rigid with paralysis for a moment. And then it was over and I could move again, though I’d dropped ten feet in the air before regaining my flapping pace.

  I AM COMING, GRYPHON.

  His voice boomed in my head with an accent that was no longer Italian, but ancient. It was familiar and foreign all at the same time in a way I couldn’t place.

  I regained my focus and descended toward the totem, pulling back my wings to land heavily next to the tracks. The trees were thick and spaced close together, but I moved swiftly on lion’s paws and pulled the totem from the base of a tree with my beak.

  Comfort buffeted me now that it was back in my possession. Our possession. But the danger remained in my senses, and I knew I had to be away quickly.

  I carefully placed the totem on the ground and then grabbed it with my talons. The totem was too small, and these talons weren’t made to hold an object gently; they were made for tearing and stabbing flesh. But it was my best option, so I gripped it tight and decided it would do.

  Above, the helicopters paused and watched me with curiosity.

  I threw myself into the air with renewed vigor, twisting my head to look directly behind. The Onyx Dragon was a dark stain against the sky, black and featureless. And moving. Moving toward me on wings that beat like thunderclaps.

  I turned away because looking didn’t help anything. I focused on flying away, somewhere safe from him, although I wasn’t sure if there was such a place. I could run for the rest of my life and this beast would follow me tirelessly.

  YOU CANNOT RUN FROM ME, GRYPHON, he boomed, as if reading my mind.

  Why can’t you leave us alone? I thought, directing the idea at him.

  He rumbled with mirthless laughter.

  WE ARE NOT THE ONES WHO BEGAN THIS WAR. WE ARE NOT THE ONES WHO DESERVE A DEATH SLOW AND TORTUROUS.

  WE ARE NOT THE ONES TO BLAME.

  The last word almost echoed in my head, blame blame blame, taunting me with meaning. I had no idea what it meant, but I could hear the power in the word nonetheless.

  I considered arguing more, or begging, but I knew that wouldn’t help.

  Below me, on a service road next to the railroad tracks, a lone police cruiser followed with sirens blaring. I felt a pang of guilt: Ethan had told me to keep my shifting a secret, that the dragons were reluctant to reveal themselves to the world, and we should be too. So much for that. Between the lonely cruiser below me, and the helicopters above, and the goddamn dragon behind, I felt like the most popular girl at the school dance. Everyone wanted a piece of me, even if they hadn’t yet taken my hand.

  I knew that wouldn’t last much longer.

  Whatever the dragon’s reasons, I had to get the totem away from him. Ethan, and Sam, and Roland had kept their dragons at bay. How could I fail where they had succeeded?

  I couldn’t be the one to give in. That wasn’t who I was.

  Try and stop me, I thought with determination as I flew toward the distant Chicago skyline.

  The dragon growled back, a rumbling thunderstorm of fury.

  25

  CASSANDRA

  I ran through the cars like my life depended on it.

  Which was more-or-less accurate.

  The train rocked worryingly on the tracks, first to the left and then the right, swaying with the immense weight of the dragon in the observation car. It roared again, with rage and frustration. I ran with the pure instinct of someone who had seen something mind-numbingly horrible. Something their brain couldn’t process without dissolving into a weeping puddle of a person.

  Porcelain dinner plates and coffee mugs and saucers slid off tables in the dining car and smashed on the ground, creating an obstacle course of broken shards and debris in the aisle. I pushed off the booths with my hands like a gorilla moving through trees, using every muscle in my body to get away, to go in the opposite direction of the dragon one car behind.

  A dragon. Scales and snake-like neck and fire.

  A fucking dragon.

  The more my mind tried to probe the idea, the closer I came to giving up and curling in a ball, paralyzed by fear. So I pushed the thoughts away, and kept moving, and hoped I wouldn’t die.

  Through it all my head throbbed like every debilitating migraine in the world smushed together. The totem was furious with me, and with Orlando, and with the sudden departure from my proximity. I knew the headaches wouldn’t end until I held it again, which wouldn’t happen any time soon. In the mean time my head throbbed, a drum-beat soundtrack to the horror unfolding all around.

  The terrible sound of groaning metal announced that the train was rocking again, and I waited to see if this would be the one, the motion that would derail us violently. The groaning sound moved up the train, then dimmed, and then we were okay.

  Into the first sleeper car I went, and I considered ducking into a random room but my feet wouldn’t stop, so I kept going until I reached th
e end and then entered the second sleeper car.

  I made it halfway down the car before slowing to a stop. This was the end of the line—the locked door to the engine was all that lay ahead of me. Nowhere else to go.

  Now that I was stationary, I could feel the pulsing sensation of the dragon: and he was coming closer. I held my breath and whirled around, expecting to see his long neck crashing through the door to take me in his wicked jaws, but there was nothing.

  The dragon grew closer, then he was all around me, and I winced in expectation.

  A dark shadow passed over the train for three seconds, like a cloud temporarily blocking the sun. And then it was gone, and so was the dragon’s aura, and I could feel him being left behind.

  No, not left behind. Actively flying in the opposite direction. Toward Orlando and the totem.

  Our plan worked!

  Any relief I may have felt was instantly replaced with concern for my mate. The dragon was out of my hair, sure. But that just meant it was his problem now.

  And he was the one with the totem.

  I could feel the moment he took possession of it, gripping it with talons as sharp as razors. I shivered in spite of myself, as if Orlando were right here running his fingertips across my back.

  Be safe, I prayed.

  I put my hand to my temple and let out a long groan of pain; the migraine was debilitating. All I wanted to do was curl up on a bed and cover my face, blocking out all the painful light…

  “Hello?”

  A voice I recognized several rooms ahead.

  “Hello! Can someone help me? I’ve been kidnapped by a crazy couple…”

  I did my best to ignore the agony in my temple and went to Orlando’s sleeper room. James flinched when he saw me; he’d maneuvered the gag out of his mouth, and it hung around his neck like a thin, saliva-drenched scarf.

  “Oh,” he said when he saw me. “Hey! I was hoping, uhh, it was you.”

  “Relax, I’m not gunna hurt you,” I muttered.

  “Okay, good. Because this train is nuts. Feels like it’s gunna go off the rails. We weren’t supposed to leave it on this speed for so long; should have been done and stopped by now…”

  Shit. That had to be handled. The temptation to leave it for someone else was so strong, and the bed looked so comfortable…

  But there was nobody else. There was only me.

  “You said Sebastian had the key to the engine room?”

  A scowl fell over James’s dark face. “Good luck getting it from him. That motherfucker is nuts.”

  “It’ll be easier than you think.” I nodded to myself. “Don’t, uhh, go anywhere.”

  “Hey, wait! Don’t leave me!”

  His voice trailed off as I sprinted back through the train.

  26

  ORLANDO

  It was a genuine OJ Simpson level chase, now.

  The single police cruiser was now joined with what must have been every cop in the entire Chicago area. They followed me and the dragon like a little league soccer team chasing a soccer ball, one giant clump of excitement all huddled together in pursuit. At least a dozen helicopters were escorting us too, though at a respectable distance; most were here for television ratings, not danger.

  Oh, and the pair of jets. Did I mention the pair of jets?

  They shot across the sky with impossible speed, the roar of their engines vibrating in their wake. They’d made four or five passes now, each time coming closer to me and the dragon. That really scared me. Could heat-seeking missiles hit a giant animal, or was I not warm enough? I didn’t want to find out. Every time they zoomed across my vision I wanted to calmly descend to the ground, shift back into my human body, and surrender to the comforting arms of law enforcement. As a black-skinned man, I’d never felt that way about the police. But I did right then.

  Hell, anything was better than facing the dragon.

  But surrendering to the cops was a plan I quickly discarded. The back of a police cruiser wouldn’t be safe from a scalding swath of dragon fire. Nope: it was better to keep flying.

  Delaying a decision was always better than making a decision.

  In spite of that, maintaining this gryphon form required a surprising amount of focus. It was like a clenched fist slowly going numb; I thought I still had control, but my confidence was beginning to crack. Staying like this was only mildly difficult right now, but I knew it would become more difficult with each passing second.

  Beyond that, I knew having the totem in my possession was dangerous. We were safer separated, I could feel. That was why the totems had to have a mate: it split things apart so we couldn’t be destroyed all at once. Like two nuclear launch guys in a missile silo, each with their separate key around their neck. Carrying the totem like this, where the Onyx Gryphon could end us both in a single flaming breath? This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. All of my gryphon instincts raged against it.

  The totem raged against the situation too. It wanted to be where it belonged: with Cassie.

  As I neared downtown Chicago, I thought about the tingling sensation in the back of my head, the feeling of knowing where my mate was. Above all else, I was leading the dragon away from Cassie. No matter what happened to me, or the totem, that was something good. She was safe, even if it was only for right now.

  Flying toward the Willis Tower, I focused on that thought: that my mate was safe.

  27

  CASSANDRA

  “Why couldn’t I have chosen a safer career?” I mumbled as I jogged down the train.

  That wasn’t fair. I had a safe career in marketing. I could have done that and only that in my life and I would have been totally safe from anything but the occasional paper cut. No escorting on the weekend. No strange men.

  No mythical creatures coming to life before my eyes.

  But that would have meant no Orlando—an impossible thought. I never would have found him if not for all of this. I believed in fate, and fate had led me to this point. There was no point in wishing for anything else.

  I hope he’s safe.

  The view of the car ahead moved to the left: we were beginning a curve in the tracks. Screams drifted from the other cars as the train creaked and groaned like an ancient machine. I threw myself against the left wall in the hope that my meager weight could keep it from flipping, but I could feel it moving, and I knew it would finally derail, that this was it, the moment where it all ended with my body mangled in a pile of wreckage.

  The train leveled out, the screams died down, and we were back to a straight section.

  I needed to hurry.

  People were crammed in the dining car now, huddled in the booths because it gave them something solid to hold onto. I slowed down as I crunched through the sea of broken porcelain, and caught bits of conversations from the other passengers.

  “What if the police can’t help us?” a woman asked.

  The man across the aisle scoffed loudly. “The police aren’t our friends!”

  “Speak for yourself.”

  “Dude, wake up. If these guys are terrorists, then military protocol would be to destroy the train as quickly as possible. Just like they shot down Flight 93 on 9/11!”

  A third person joined the argument: “That plane wasn’t shot down! It crashed!”

  “That’s what they want you to think!”

  “You’re an idiot,” the original woman said. “A hijacked train can only follow its tracks…”

  Their voices cut off as I passed through the next partition: the one where Orlando had shifted. The rubber-and-fabric connector was in tatters, revealing open air. I stamped out any thought of falling off the train and passed into the observation car.

  The remains of this car made the partition look undamaged by comparison. The ceiling had been peeled away like a sardine can, and the whole car wobbled on its wheels from the unbalanced weight. Bits of broken glass covered everything. The place where Sebastian had shifted into a dragon looked like a bomb had gone off: all the chai
rs were ripped free and scattered away, leaving an open space the size of a boxing ring.

  Only a handful of people remained, but one of them was the kind old man. He stood against the wall to my right, holding onto an overhead bar and staring at nothing with a pissed-off look on his face. There was a tiny dab of blood on his neck from where Sebastian’s knife had been.

  “Doing okay?” I asked, wiping the blood away with my thumb. He blinked and seemed to see me for the first time.

  “I’m still here, sweetheart, aren’t I?” A genuine smile split his face.

  “Have you seen the other guys? The bad guys, I mean.”

  He revealed his other hand, which had been at his side: he now held one of the Uzi machine guns. “Pissants threw down their guns and ran. Probably cowering somewhere in the back. If they try anything else…”

  His eyes narrowed, and he stared down the open car again. Even at his age, covered in wrinkles and with a hunch to his posture, he looked every bit the soldier right then.

  “Don’t let me get in your way.” I stepped back into the aisle, glass crunching under my shoes with every step. The entire wall to my left was peeled open, revealing the terrain next to the tracks: 15 feet of open ground and then a hedge of trees, which whizzed by so fast I didn’t have time to make out any individual trunk.

  Ahead of me was the open area where the dragon had shifted. Where the key might be.

  Walking down the open aisle was a simple task, but the open air to my left filled me with dread. It was like standing next to a ledge at a great height: I expected a gust of wind to come along and sweep me into the abyss. I stood there for a long time, holding onto the last row of undamaged chairs, trying to gather my strength.

  If the old man can be so courageous, so can you.

  I took a slow step forward, and miraculously I wasn’t sucked off the train. I sidestepped and followed the wall on the right, pushing bits of glass ahead of me as I shuffled forward on cautious feet. I could see bits of cloth on the ground, which might have been Sebastian’s clothes when he shifted. The shreds were everywhere, though, and I didn’t see a key.