Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
Blow a little smoke to remind them a burning is only ever seconds away.
-Humaning for Beginners: A Dragon’s Tale of Human Management
As soon as I flew into German airspace, the temperature dropped and scents changed. I traded the pleasant odor of amber and smoke for the briny breath of the Weser River.
Rows of red-brick warehouses lined the water’s edge.
I’d watched these steep-gabled buildings with their arched windows being built in the 1890s.
The crafters were long gone, but their imagination and ingenuity remained.
Though the town didn’t bustle as it once had, this working port gave us the perfect cover.
I aimed for the warehouse tucked between two shuttered storage halls that acted as my home base in the human world, sailing through dragon-berserker security checkpoints without hassle.
The steady thump of steel-toed boots on concrete and the charged atmosphere of soldiers on duty spoke of a place always ready for battle.
The air changed again, carrying the mingled scents of oiled steel and gunpowder.
Rows of stacked crates and armored lockers lined the walls, each marked with stenciled symbols denoting their contents: ammunition, rations or equipment whose purpose was left deliberately vague.
A raised platform at the far end served as a command station, where a handful of grim-faced berserker officers oversaw wall-mounted surveillance screens.
Here, my warriors were not required to bow, only obey. Their main job was the security of not only the warehouse but guarding our human territory. “Any new sightings of the mortal?”
“Nein, Your Majesty,” someone called.
As I approached the armory, the throbbing in my neck erupted anew, exploding with such violence, it wrenched a groan from me. Something was wrong. Wrong with Locke.
Heart thudding, I grabbed a dragonshell blade, a weapon able to cause shifters great pain.
Other shouts rang out, everyone eager to come to my aid as I headed for the exit.
Once outside the compound, I took flight in a cloud of concealing smoke, letting the pull between us guide me, scanning…
scanning…there! In a shadowed alley hidden from humans by thick dragon-smoke, ten shifters formed a circle around the human already cut and bleeding.
Taron. The bright glow in the pattern of blood splatter pulsed at full wattage again. And once again, it faded as I closed in. So, it glowed because we were apart and stopped when together, as if the light attempted to summon me?
Wasting no time, I tucked my wings to descend at top speed, arrowing toward the brewing fray. To Taron’s credit, he stood with absolute calm, reminding me of thunder trapped in a bottle. He clutched a dagger in one hand and an MP7 with a silencer in the other. An empty clip lay near his feet.
“Lorik sends his regards,” a grinning shifter said to him, wiping a golden drop of molten fire from the corner of his mouth with the tip of a claw.
He stepped closer, his eyes, nose and lips beginning to glow bright red.
He hadn’t yet noticed me. “No need to send a return message. I’ll relay your screams.”
“Doubtful, since you won’t survive the next five seconds.
” Taron executed an expert and wholly otherworldly sneak attack, shocking me to the core.
Though his body remained still, the ghostly outline of his arm moved, tossing a dagger.
The blade appeared as transparent as he was, solidifying as it flew.
It tore through the speaker’s chest, coming out his back—with his heart attached.
One down, nine to go.
Almost there… I let my wings dissolve, arrowing faster.
As the shifter toppled, dead, the others comprehended what just happened: their friend was killed by a human. They became fully dragon, clothing ripping, scales spreading, bones elongating and rearranging.
Boom! I slammed into the one closest to Taron, drilling the threat to the ground. He hit with such force and bellowed with such pain, I was certain I’d broken every bone in his body.
Whatever temporary shock I’d been under vanished. Harm my Locke? Never. “Die,” I growled, punching through the fallen shifter’s chest. I unfurled new wings, propelling myself to a stand with my opponent’s still-beating heart in hand.
The starting bell. Madness broke loose, the remaining shifters splitting up, half focused on me, half unleashing streams of fire at the professor. I moved, covering Taron in a protective cloak of my wings.
Once the flames died, I attacked in turn, rage burning through the gelu root until none remained.
A thick haze engulfed my mind, narrowing my world to my enemies.
Nothing else existed as my body doubled in size, attempting to house the sudden explosion of power rushing through it.
Clothing tore, several swatches of material falling away.
I ripped through the shifters without mercy. Slashing. Punching. Spraying my fire into throats unable to withstand my heat. Tearing out hearts. At some point, I’d acquired a sword. Then another. Off with their heads!
But why were there no more soldiers? I really, really wanted to kill more.
“Anyone else?” I asked oh so pleasantly. Perhaps horrifically so.
Dragon-berserkers landed around me, features quickly contorting with dismay.
Well, why not take them out too?
Except, there was a man. Separate from the dragons. He clutched two swords dripping crimson all over a soot-scorched pavement. I recognized him.
Oh, ja. Taron, in the flesh, no longer a ghostly illusion.
“Calm,” he said to me.
The word struck deeper than sound, sliding into my bones, silencing the endless roar. What didn’t die? The need to protect him. I pressed my back to his front. “No one touches him.”
Shock reverberated through the thickening crowd. Armed men and women I suddenly recognized. They had served me for years.
And my dragon had considered harming them? I groaned. The berserkerage must have been strong. If not for Taron…
Inner shake.
“We won’t touch him, my queen. He’s yours,” Commander Hoffmann vowed.
The dragon inside me thrilled at the rightness of his statement, sparking apprehension in me. Taron wasn’t mine. Not now, not ever.
Murmurs of “firebrand” erupted, and I gnashed my teeth. He wasn’t my firebrand! He might have calmed me, but we could blame the Yrnblade for it. Not that I would explain. The title of firebrand protected him in ways nothing else could.
“Leave us,” I commanded, unable to hide my tremors. Taron and I were due to have a private chat. My breathing slowed, and I began to shrink to normal size. Despite gaps of missing material, I remained covered in all the right places. “We’ll meet you at the warehouse.”
Alert, hands on weapons, they obeyed, filing out of the alley in formation.
Taron’s warm breath fanned over my nape, rousing flutters in my belly. “Well. This is an unexpected problem,” he said, low and quiet. “I calmed you. With a single command.”
I craned my head, and our gazes collided. Held. “The bond is responsible.” And yet…
Why wasn’t I satisfied with the explanation?
A myriad of emotions clashed over Taron’s face. Confusion. Connection. And finally rejection. He shook his head. “I want it broken. Now.”
We split apart, and I whipped around, facing him fully.
We stared at each other. Thoughts whirled, and sentences spilled from my tongue.
“The shifters know of our connection.” Because Lorik arranged it.
“If I’m going to break it, I must take you to Ashmorra.
You’ve already found a way there, and that way is obviously safer than the traveling stones, the only other option.
” But those stones were made specifically for immortals.
They might or might not kill Taron, but they would absolutely wreck him.
“I may be human,” he said, his voice harsh, “but I can navigate the stones without consequence.”
“So you used them? Not another method?” That, I hadn’t expected.
“I’ve done it two ways, and the first is the stones.
” Taron tugged his shirt from his pants––hello abs, scars and battle wounds––and lifted the material over his heart.
Then I spotted it. Something hard, curved and emerald just under the surface of his skin.
As he shifted, it caught the sunlight and shimmered.
My breath stalled as the realization unfurled with excruciating slowness. “Is that a… but that can’t be… it’s a dragon’s scale,” I ultimately finished, astonished.
More proof he’d been inside my realm. Done things I hadn’t clocked. That scale must have acted as a key through the traveling stones.
I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and running a finger along the ridge of the scale, fused to him using dragon fire. His stomach hollowed at my touch. A reaction my body mimicked of its own accord.
The scale responded to my touch as well, glowing brighter and heating beneath my fingertip.
Nein, nein, nein. Something was wrong here.
This wasn’t just any dragon’s scale. It couldn’t be.
Not as a tide of awful emotions cascaded through me.
Things like wrath, resentment, vindictiveness and spite. Emotions that were not mine.
With a gasp, I pulled my hand away and glared at him. “That’s a shifter’s scale. Lorik’s.”
“Yes.” Taron didn’t try to deny it. “I worked with him. Now, I will kill him.”
I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. “Lorik is mine to kill.” But that scale was coming out immediately. “You’ll go through with my scale. Mine. Not his.”
“Fine. I don’t care whose scale I wear.” Taron worked his jaw, all other reactions on lockdown. “Just get it done so we can leave. The sooner we break the bond, the better.”
His urgency meant one thing: he wasn’t comfortable with the strength of our bond, either. A point in my favor.
Wasting no time, I grabbed a knife tucked in my boot and cleaned the blade with my fire. “Just so you know, this will hurt you way more than it’s going to hurt me.”
He didn’t even flinch as I sliced open his skin and dug the scale out of his body and tossed it to the ground. Satisfied, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and allowed my dragon to run wild.
Well, run wild long enough to remove a scale of my own and shove it into the vacant space. Finally, Taron reacted, a hiss escaping him. I didn’t pause, but blew a tiny stream of fire around the edges, sealing the scale to his muscle and flesh.
Beads of sweat ran down his temple. But otherwise? No other show of pain. Do. Not. Admire. That.
I tore my gaze away and stepped around a fallen shifter, his heart a foot from his body. Why had the shifters attacked Taron here, out in the open? Why not drag him off in secret, hiding their prize before they deep-fried it, as usual?
From the depths of my mind, rose the words spoken by the shifter I’d stashed in the catacombs. He did it. He sold the Yrnblade. He launched the ambush. He killed the Locke. Or soon will.
Air sawed between my teeth. They’d come after Taron—the last Locke—today and would keep coming, even if they had to destroy this world to see it done.
“We must leave this place. Now,” I told him.
But still, something held me back. My people.
My duty to them always remains first. “I’ll take you to my palace, but you will harm none of my citizens. ”
He didn’t hesitate. “You have my word. I won’t attack them.” Pause. Then he added, “If they don’t attack me.”
I believed him. Heard the truth in his tone. Still, a human in Ashmorra? I mean, ja, I’d suggested it, and ja, he’d come before, but never in history had a royal escorted one inside. “I’ll only take you in chains.” Soldiers would revolt otherwise.
His expression hardened, and a vein pulsed at his temple, but he gave me a tight nod. “The pack and everything in it goes with me.”
Considering what we’d be up against? “Agreed. Though I keep the Chains of O. And their key.” I’d have my reprieve.
“Agreed,” he echoed. Then he fished the key from his pocket, unhooked the shackles from his belt, and handed over both to me. He stretched out his arms with his wrists pressed together.
My lips parted in a gasp. “You’ll let me bind you without a fight? Make you helpless?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’m never helpless. But either way, you’re not leaving this realm without me.”
Head high, I snapped the chains into place and turned on my heel. “Then come.”
He arched a brow. “You taking me in the air or using the traveling stone in the warehouse?”
I ground my teeth. Of course he knew of my ultra-secret doorway between realms. “Is it the passage you used as your second entry?” Bypassing my security?
“No. There are several dotted all over the United States, and the griffin king has soldiers who can be bought.”
Malachi. Irritation scraped my insides raw.
“We’re returning to the warehouse to shower and change.
We’ll use the doorway there,” I bit out, finally answering his question.
“No doubt shifters are watching the sky.” The very reason I kept a doorway on land.
Also, I didn’t want Taron riding my air current.
An intimate experience. “They cannot know I’m taking you to Ashmorra. ”
Silent now, he collected his backpack.
We didn’t speak again as we walked to the warehouse. Didn’t speak as I dealt with security and marched him past a growing cluster of my soldiers, who were still whispering about Taron’s ability to calm me.
After showering and changing clothes, we descended to the lowest floor, stopping at a reinforced, well-guarded concrete and rebar room housing the traveling stones.
Once secured behind a solid steel door, I faced him.
The embedded scale glowed brighter and brighter through his shirt, as if welcoming him, recognizing his right to be here.
I felt an answering glow inside me. But that couldn’t be true. On either front.
My heart hammered, and I swallowed past a lump in my throat. If this didn’t work…if he died…
I would be desperate without him? This could be a trick, so I’d follow his script.
Thanks to the effects of the Yrnblade, I would long for him until my last breath.
“Perhaps we should stay here,” I rushed out. My scale might not work as well as Lorik’s. Shifter scales might differ from berserker scales. Maybe I shouldn’t have switched them. “There’s a private room at the back of the warehouse. We can talk there. Ja. That’s–”
“Take me to Ashmorra, Olyssa,” he interjected, his tone firm. “Some things shouldn’t be discussed in human lands. I’ll survive this, I swear it.”
I shouldn’t believe my enemy…but I did. “Hold tight,” I croaked.
He wrapped his arms around me, and I had to fight the urge to melt against him. Then the light bent and rippled as the portal fired to life, drawing us through…