by Dana Lyons
Blood and Fire
Dreya Love Book 2
Dana Lyons
Copyright © 2018 by Dana Lyons
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
Introduction
BLOOD AND FIRE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
About the Author
Inhuman? Exceptional? Noble?
They seek their maker.
On a black-ops space station, a blood thirsty dragon shifter goes on a killing spree—until Dreya and her team get in the way.
Welcome to the backside of hell—Draco Station.
Draco Station, an ultra-secret installation over the planet Draco Prime, where mining Vulkillium is a mega billion-dollar business. But to work the surface you need a special kind of human—a Draco Demon.
When bodies start turning up on the space station, Dreya Love and her team set out to investigate, and they come face to face with Dr. Anthony Lazar. Dr. Lazar is brilliant. Unfortunately for humanity, he’s also insane. He has a vision of humanity’s future and the tools to implement his twisted ideals. After all, he is smarter than God.
A madman, a dragon with dreams of blood and fire, and a sheriff with a grudge—all complicate the search for answers. If Dreya’s not careful, she and her team could end up dead ... or worse.
Follow Special Agent Dreya Love and her men, Rhys Morgan, and Quinn Kingston as their lives change and entwine … forever … in ways they could never imagine!
BLOOD AND FIRE
Deliver me from the workers of iniquity;
save me from bloody men.
1
1992
Dr. Anthony Lazar stared at the flat line on his sister’s cardiac monitor. There wasn’t going to be an almighty spark to start her heart; no divine blessing to resurrect her soul; no reprieve from death. God had abandoned his sister before he could save her.
What good is such a God?
He snorted with self-disdain.
I blame God … where was I? What did I do to save her?
“I could have saved her,” he mumbled. “If only I had a little more time—” They pulled the sheet up over Nina’s face, and he turned away.
“Son, you know there was nothing you could do,” his father said with simple logic. “Her condition was non-surgical, and untreatable. Not even you, as brilliant as you are, could have prevented this moment.”
Anthony backed out of the room. “What good is my genius if I can’t save someone I love?” He shuddered, questioning his own worth as grief rocked through his soul. “Why be brilliant if you can’t do something, something … noble in the absence of God?”
Saving his sister in God’s absence; the thrilling thought gave him comfort, for he believed in his genius more than he believed in God. Suddenly, the idea was a wrecking ball, swinging through his mind, smashing the boundaries of his thoughts to pieces—pieces recombining into a daring new configuration.
Not save … fix.
The way to save her was clear—simply eliminate the problem before it manifests. Sadly, this epiphany was too late for Nina, but he could be there for others.
He gave his sister one last look through a wash of tears. At least now her frail body was at peace. In death there was no pain, no grief, no desperate clinging to life. But in the void left by her passing, a new commitment arose in his heart and mind. He stared out the window, tears falling from his face.
I don’t need God.
“I could have fixed her.”
* * *
2000
Dr. Anthony Lazar surveyed the room and lifted his nose, sniffing lightly.
Ah, the smell of money, the feel of power.
In spite of his disgust, for he despised having to pander to these people, he wore a smile. In spite of his joy, he kept the smile subdued.
Everything in life was brighter with money, such was obvious as he gazed around. The glassware sparkled, the gold jewelry and cufflinks glittered, the beautiful women looked like models in their immaculate formal wear. All were signs of the noble class.
Yet never was there a room more devoid of noble deeds, noble thoughts, noble actions. Among these people, he was the sole proprietor of such qualities.
They need me; I need them. The end will justify the means.
In every corner, heads were cast together in secret murmurs, no doubt bartering and constructing highly lucrative deals. Beyond the corners, corporate board members tipped their glasses with the politically ultra-powerful.
‘Filthy rich’ always came to mind at these gatherings. While he regarded the room’s financially elevated low-life with contempt, their company was necessary for completing the Nobility project. What began with Nina’s death had become his life’s goal, a goal that required considerable funding.
These people will give me what I need to create the Nobility formula.
Senator Sanford Stanton approached with a smile full of teeth. “Dr. Lazar, we are so pleased to have you here.”
Lazar gave the required nod of respect. “It’s a new day for all of us, Senator,” he replied, noting the deferential tone levered his way. This show of respect was fostered by the enormous profits this room’s inhabitants pocketed due to his work. For six years, his stunning advancements for Hammer Industries fueled their genetics program on the super-secret Draco Station. His unique vision and pioneering research created the enormously productive, yet problematic, Draco Demons.
He worked his way through the crowd, nodding to people who had more money than they could ever spend, people multiplying their vast wealth because of his accomplishments. They should be deferential, he thought.
I’m the only one who can fix what they lost—control of Draco Station and the Draco Demons.
Senator Stanton stood to make a toast. “To Dr. Anthony Lazar—the future of Draco Station.” He raised his glass.
Lazar anchored his smile and joined in, tipping his glass to them. After six years developing Draco Demons, he was now being rewarded with his own lab on Draco Station, the opportunity he needed. On Draco Station, he would fix their problem with the Demons while completing his Nobility formula.
Nobility, whether humanity wants it … or not.
Stanton continued. “As you know, Hammer Industries has lost control of the station.”
A murmur of doom passed through the crowd.
; “Yes, we’ve all seen our profit sheets suffer from the loss of Draco Station,” Stanton commiserated. He held his hand out, dramatically staving back the tide of woe. “However, the collective and God-given talent at Hammer is not to be denied.”
He raised his glass to Lazar. “The eminent doctor has agreed to come on board, continuing the unparalleled scientific advancements he brought to Draco and Hammer Industries. We welcome Dr. Lazar as chief of the genetics laboratory for the new Pantheon Corporation. To Dr. Lazar, and Pantheon! ‘Where the gods gather—redefining humanity’s boundaries through science.’”
Lazar took his bow. Afterwards, he scanned the crowd. Senator Stanford caught his eye and motioned him to come. He followed the senator down a hall and into an office where several of the richest men on the planet were in conversation. At a table in the corner by the window, a young girl, perhaps eight or nine, kept her head bent over a color book and an array of crayons.
All conversation was subdued. Not exactly whispers, but speech was … soft. Lazar reclined in a leather chair indicated by the senator, who took a seat on an adjacent couch next to Oliver Gates, third richest man in the world. “I’m impressed with results from DNA modification through vaccines,” Oliver said. “What’s your solution for fixing the problems on Draco Prime with the Demons?”
“I believe the answer is to give them wings.”
“Wings?”
“Wings come with lungs—lungs capable of breathing on the surface without carrying an air supply. This new creature will be far more advanced than the surface crawlers we currently have. The modified Draco Demon will be a beautiful, flying creature that’s highly intelligent. This will satisfy the Demons’ prime negotiating point for advanced evolution as a species.”
“Fascinating,” Stanton said. “What other pioneering insights are you bringing to Pantheon?”
“Senator, I intend to broaden the Pantheon stable. Why have only Draco Demons, when there are endless templates in creation?” He leaned in, but spoke loud enough for his voice to carry. “You won’t believe the feathers I can create. Once Pantheon negotiates a contract with Draco Station, I’ll bring you creatures you could never imagine. The prosperity will see no end.”
The awe on their faces massaged his ego. He smiled and gazed around—even the young girl at a table in the corner watched him.
Pantheon would make the Demons on Draco Station a deal they couldn’t refuse because the profits from Vulkillium were limitless—but only as long as the Demons worked the surface. Once he took control of the most advanced genetics laboratory money could buy on Draco Station, he would finish his dream. He sipped his champagne with a smile.
Redefining humanity’s boundaries? I’ve only begun.
* * *
2014 Draco Station in Orbit over Draco Prime
In the genetics lab, a young man asked, “I’m going to be one of the new ‘Draco Demons’?”
Dr. Anthony Lazar patted the young man’s arm. “The best and the latest; you should live a long and productive life here on Draco Station. You’re making the right decision; you’ll be taken care of for life.”
“Go ahead, Doc.” The young man closed his eyes.
Lazar inserted the syringe into the IV feed. “You’ll feel some discomfort during the genetic transformation, but that will pass. We’re moving you to a quiet room where we can monitor you during your transition.” He slowly injected the latest version of the Draco Demon solution into the IV. “When I see you next, you’ll be brand new.”
The young man’s bed was wheeled away to an isolation chamber where his screams wouldn’t be heard. Behind Lazar, the crowd of visiting dignitaries murmured. He snapped off his gloves and deposited them in a waste basket. Over his shoulder, he called, “This way, gentlemen.”
He hated this quarterly dog-and-pony show, but the great corporate unwashed required more attention than his new dragons. He opened the door and led his guests to the hatching wing. “Here is where new dragons stay for the first couple days.”
They stopped before an observation window viewing a lower level where a dozen cubical cages with a bed, toilet, and sink housed a freshly transitioned Draco Demon. Lazar stepped aside so the corporate herd could view his latest creation.
These dragons were in various stages of ‘expressing’ their new DNA. Some were just awakening from the transition, others were fully adept at changing, flitting from human to dragon and back within seconds.
“As you can see, they are—”
“Spectacular,” murmured one of the corporates.
Very human in form, these dragons had four human limbs with large wings attached to their back. Their chests were oversized, their arms and legs muscular, and their skin a sleek, shiny, reptilian scale glinting in a rainbow of colors.
One of the adept dragons transitioned and opened his wings to a full extension of twelve feet across. Hands at his hips, he pivoted on two strongly muscled legs, preening to display his neck gills with their glittering red-gold scales.
“He was a tall man,” Lazar said, pointing. “Thus, his maximum wing span.”
The dragon gazed up as he flexed his wings with a snap, producing a loud crack. He winked at Lazar before retracting his wings and shifting back to human.
“What is he worth? The one down there?” a corporate asked.
Lazar knew they wanted to hear the dragon’s value in profits. “That Draco Demon’s Vulkillium production will amount to one billion dollars per year. That makes him a twenty billion-dollar dragon. That’s why they’re paid so well.”
“How long do they work per shift?”
He had to look down to mask a retort threatening to erupt. No matter how productive he made his dragons, the corporates wanted more. Unfortunately for Pantheon and the Draco Demons, the corporates were paying more attention to the profit margin than they were to the devilish details. “I make specific recommendations for safe workloads for Draco Demons, including warnings about overexposure.”
“But how critical is it to remain within your recommendations?”
“Push workloads outside my recommendations and you do so at great peril.”
“Peril to what, Dr. Lazar? Can you clarify?”
His dragons were manmade, albeit by a brilliant man. But without several millennia of evolution to challenge and perfect the genetics, there were limitations.
The psychology of being both animal and human was a difficult construct for some human psyches to assimilate. While genetic testing identified failure markers in an individual’s genome for physical disqualifications, there were no such means of guaranteeing the mind. Ultimately, it was best not to challenge a dragon’s emotional and mental boundaries by stressing the physical body.
He stared down his nose at the questioner. “The peril is to the twenty billion-dollar individual, the station, and Pantheon’s bottom line. Only an idiot would run the risk. Does that clarify the situation for you?”
Silence crept into the observation room. He noted their faces held no more curiosity.
Ah. It’s good to go to the zoo; better still to leave it behind.
“Remember the peril when you increase production demands.”
* * *
Present Day Draco Station
Nate Givens, foreman and senior Draco Demon, inhaled the hot air of Draco Prime and cracked open his wings. The highly dangerous surface, with its atmospheric gases so toxic to humans, was a balm to his senses. He inhaled, drawing the mix deep into his lungs and flapped his wings, lifting off the ground just enough to dance on his tiptoes. He was tempted to fly high into the sky, even though such a desire was deeply dragon primordial.
And sternly forbidden by Pantheon.
Maintain your humanness.
He had nothing but contempt for the protocols designed to maintain humanness. The surface of Draco Prime was hell, and here, he was dragon, not human.
Damn the protocols.
From the red surface he took flight, clasping his hands behind his
back while his wings labored to gain lift. He inhaled, swelling his chest to take in more air, driving power to his wings. His blood sang with the thrill of flight as he climbed and dove through the air, exercising his dragon muscles and the part of his brain controlling flight ability.
Forbidden, whispered his human mind. Flying releases the dragon.
They were right. Flying expanded reptilian desires and depressed human inhibitions, allowing the dragon to override the human, opening the gate to dragon behavior—especially the blood thirst. He came down to the surface and settled on a high point overlooking the great bowl Draco Demons had dug in the name of Vulkillium. He threw his head back and screamed a dragon declaration of joy before retracting his wings.
“Dragon behavior is my right,” he shouted, raising his fist.
They can’t give me wings and forbid me to fly.
He propped his hands on his hips, feeling the impenetrable scales that covered his form when he was dragon. He had never felt less human.
I have been on Draco too long.
His last time on Earth was a faded memory. For years he lived on station, transforming to a dragon under Lazar’s encouragement when he perfected the dragon formula. One of the many benefits of being a Draco Demon was retirement; dragons were well cared for until death. The work was hard, but his dragon body loved coming to the surface and spending a full shift in reptilian form.
Then there were the erotic advantages present in human form. It was common knowledge on Draco that once a woman had a dragon, rarely did she leave her dragon lover.
