City Of Dragons Read online

  “What’s going on, Dyl?”

  “Nothing,” his senior replied coldly, and sipped at the beer to avoid the gap, “just a personal hunch, I don’t want to say anything more until I know for sure. You can understand that.”

  Gavin let out a low irritable growl, the same type that he used when in Form to indicate he was upset with a plan, but he begrudgingly shrugged and slid the rest of the uneaten pizza across the glass table. He may not have liked being kept in the dark, but the years the two of them had spent together on patrol had at least given him some measure of respect when it came to obeying Dylan’s gut instincts.

  “Fine, for now,” Gavin grunted, “I’ll bite. But I want to know what’s going on.”

  “I know, I know. Next mark, if it doesn’t bring up anything, I’ll spill the beans. For now though, it’s in both our interests for me to keep it to myself.”

  “Plausible deniability?” Gavin winked.

  That’s why I like you, Dylan said. Gavin had a keen eye for politics, even if one look at him would give you the impression he was nothing more than an anarchist punk. That’s why he’d selected Gavin by hand. Dylan still remembered the day he’d overseen the final training phase of new candidates. It was a scenario in which there was no clear way to win, a lose-lose situation. Let your mark get away, and either your partner died, or civilians died. The idea, according to the Order, was to get initiates used to the idea that sometimes there was no solution – sometimes you had to live with the consequences.

  Gavin failed the test twice. When he came back the third time, he didn’t choose either scenario, but invented his own in which he was able to save both his partner and the civilians. The hitch: he had to sacrifice himself in the practice scenario. Dylan was impressed, and had put him on his own team immediately.

  “Something like that,” he responded.

  “What do you want me to do?” Gavin asked.

  Dylan hadn’t really expected him to go along so willingly, but the notion of having someone else to work out his suspicions with filled him with confidence. “For now, let’s just say that I would like to capture one of the Rogues alive,” he muttered, and clamped his teeth over the edge of his glass. Somewhere in the distance, a helicopter was spinning above the metropolis. From their vantage point fifteen stories up, he sometimes felt like the gargoyles of ancient lore, stone sentinels watching over the world below. Trying to keep the blasted world from imploding on itself, he thought wryly.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Dylan was woken from his sleep by a familiar alarm. He groaned and threw his legs over the side of his bed. Morning’s bitten light was struggling out across the city, and shafted down through the penthouse’s skylights. He groaned again when the warm shelf of light hit his face. This early in the morning? he thought, deactivating the alarm on his wristwatch and standing up. He pulled his legs and arms through the nerve-suit that was draped over the back of a chair. Thankfully, the nerve-suit came fully equipped with a temperature regulator, and the lightweight polymer material was as thin as skin. Almost like wearing a second one.

  “Gavin! Wake the hell up! We’ve got a call,” Dylan boomed, strolling into the living room. Gavin was already sleepily pulling on his own nerve-suit as he came out of his room, but he looked like a zombie and there were bags under his eyes.

  “This early?”

  “That’s what I said,” Dylan said, stroking his scar.

  The presence of Rogues in the daytime hours was unusual, almost unheard of. They didn’t have as much compunction about showing themselves to humans – which accounted for a number of ‘unverified’ accounts of dragons on the news, easily rebuffed by professionals (who Dylan assumed were also under the Order’s jurisdiction). Still, it was unnatural for a dragon to want to show itself in the daytime. At their core, dragons were nocturnal, and their evolution had progressed concurrent with this trait.

  Sunlight wasn’t exactly poisonous, but it weakened the internal scale structure of most dragons and made it fragile. A dragon intent on showing itself in a diurnal setting was asking for trouble, and putting itself at a marked disadvantage. Gavin followed behind Dylan as he opened the wide glass doors that led onto the verandah and balcony, shielding his eyes against the glare of the sun.

  “Christ, that’s bright.”

  “It’s about to get brighter,” Dylan turned and looked over the railing. The city between day and night was so different; at night, there existed a kind of subterranean aura, something that was hidden and tried to keep itself hidden. Daytime was entirely different – there were no monsters hiding in the shadows, nothing lurking, nothing on the hunt. “Let’s get this over with.” He held up both his palms toward Gavin.

  Gavin rubbed his hands on his pant leg and held up his palms as well. Instantly, a blue flame arced between them, and they both grunted with pain as ancient runes burned into the flesh of their hands. The Seal was as ancient as it was fickle, and if one or the other of them lost focus it wouldn’t complete its summoning at all. Gavin closed his left eye, gritting his teeth against the familiar but still searing pain. It was like holding embers in your palm.

  Around them, there was a sudden shockwave and Dylan perceived the faint outline of a blue curtain encircling the city, spreading in three hundred and sixty degrees like an umbrella, with him and Gavin at the epicenter. Gavin gasped and broke the contact, just as the Seal activated, and everything turned a shade bluer. The sound of the city stopped, as if they’d all missed a step.

  “I think your next report should recommend a Seal that doesn’t crispify my hand every goddamn time we activate it,” Gavin swore, blowing uselessly at the soldered flesh on his palm. His fingers were curled over like talons and the smell of cooked meat singed the air. “Alright, where is this bastard?”

  Dylan had already stepped up on the railing and was scanning the city. His keen senses while under the Seal’s bubble pronounced every sensation, every stimulus, so that it became like a raging waterfall in his ears. It was only with great practice, and an equal degree of patience, that he had trained himself to block out the residual noise of it.

  “I see him, he’s on Twelfth Street, but…”

  “But what?”

  Dylan shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I can’t say… something feels wrong, off. I can’t localize him. It’s like he’s there one moment, gone the next.”

  Spreading both his arms Dylan let gravity tip him over the side of the building and restrained a gasp as the air rushed up to meet him, half-blinding him. He let himself hover in freefall and heard Gavin’s feet cling on the ledge as he dove after him. Less than a hundred yards from the street below, they both transformed, their wings snapping outward like slingshots. Dylan shot upward on the still air, cruising low above the threshold of pedestrians and taxis that were stuck in a perpetual traffic jam.

  Gavin followed behind him, his black shape glistening in the sun like some huge benthic monstrosity, swimming through the air. There was another pinging in his brain, like someone pressing on a sore nerve, and Dylan swooped left, following his senses. They were in a shadier part of town, and there were fewer pedestrians. He recognized it as one of the projects, a place whose poverty was matched only by its violent crime rates.

  Both dragons heard it before they saw it; a kind of terrible screeching sound like a banshee, something that ricocheted off the stone alleys and seemed to resonate in the window sills of the apartment buildings. Dylan dropped down to the street level, moving forward on his hind legs and using the padded surface of his wings where the joint was attached to scamper toward the sound. Gavin landed like a bat on one of the vertical walls and followed at a distance, his claws burying in against the mortar work.

  Another screech, except this time, it was followed by a scream. Dylan balked, and increased his pace. No, couldn’t be. It almost sounded human. But that was impossible – only Shifters could move freely inside a Seal. As the two of them rounded the corner, the Rogue came into view.


  Its back was to them, a burnt red umber that reminded Dylan of volcanic glass. He was smaller than the Rogue they’d eliminated the night before, but his shape was unusual, almost feline in its appearance; spikes serrated from its skull, and pulled back along its spine, and as it turned, it was Gavin who made a croaking sound. Dylan saw what had caught his attention. The red dragon had four eyes, two sets strategically placed one on top of the other. The breadth of its wings expanded as it encountered its enemies, but it couldn’t fully stretch them in the close quarters of the alley.

  Got you pegged, sucker, Dylan thought, and gave the Rogue a sly appraisal even as Gavin moved higher, scampering up the brick wall to make sure the Rogue didn’t try to escape by going up. Dylan prepared to pounce, gauging the distance between them. The red dragon hissed and growled again, but it didn’t look as if it were preparing a fire blast. No, it was…

  Dylan screeched loudly, a warning meant for Gavin, who froze instantly, strapped against the brick wall like a black clot of blood. Impossible, Dylan thought, trying to glimpse behind the Rogue. There was a human there, a woman. Her face was terrified and her back was pressed up against the dead end, both knees pulled up to her chest. For a moment, he was certain she was just another pedestrian – the Rogue had probably tried to attack her just before he and Gavin activated the Seal, and frozen her in place. Just lucky we made it in time, he thought.

  But as he neared closer, his heart almost stopped. She wasn’t frozen, not really. She was still, paralyzed by fear, but she wasn’t stuck in the Seal. His eyes picked out the gentle rise and fall of her breath. Both her eyes were wide, almond colored lenses transfixed on the impossible creatures in front of her, unable to blink even as they watered over, causing tears to plummet down her cheeks and collect at the dimpled point of her chin. What the hell, Dylan thought, and he saw Gavin twitch nervously above him. The sheer physical impossibility of her being able to resist the Seal was countered by the fact he now had to worry about the safety of a civilian.

  His tail flicked out behind him, snapping the air in a deliberate gesture. To anyone else, including the Rogue, it would look like an overexcited preparation to pounce, which was precisely what Dylan was counting on. But it was only one of a hundred weapons in the arsenal of communication he and Gavin had invented over the years. Forty feet above Gavin drew a single black nail across the tiles as a way to confirm he understood.

  This is going to hurt, Dylan said, taking in a deep breath.

  The only way to get the Rogue away from the woman was to lure him out. But in their current situation, the environment made that impossible. Which meant a head-on approach, something so mind-numbingly stupid even to a Rogue’s perspective that it would be impossible to predict. But it also puts me right in the line of fire if he decides to vomit flame at me, Dylan thought, bracing his talons into the cement. In a final collapse of his wings he sped forward.

  The red dragon bristled and stood up on its hind legs, taking in a deep intake of air. Dylan saw it coming, but there was no way to avoid it. Helplessly, he brought up one of his wings and tried to enclose it around his head and chest, even as he hurled through the air like a green spear.

  The Rogue’s flame hit his wing at an angle and Dylan’s long alligator jaw clenched, enduring it the same way he endured the burning indentation of the Seal each time it was activated. Dragon-fire brushed over him, and was redirected against the green garbage bins against the side of the alley. The metal glowed white hot, and smoke and burning plastic rifled the air.

  At the same time, Gavin dropped downward, and his ebon claws sunk deep into the Rogue’s neck. With a ferocious shove, he severed the windpipe and arteries in a single rigid cut. The Rogue let out a cackle as blood spewed forward, decorating the brick walls like perverse graffiti, and the dragon’s head plunked down on the cement. Remnant flames trickled out of his nostrils like a blue after-image, and he was still.

  This time, it was Gavin who returned to human form first, his hands still coated in the Rogue’s blood as he leapt off the carcass and ran toward Dylan, who was lying in a puddle. The smell of burning flesh hit both men, but it was stronger this time, and it made Gavin sick. A red and black patch of skin from his shoulder to his ribs showed where the flame had struck him, eating away at the nerve-suit as if it were cobwebs.

  “Ow,” Dylan said, allowing himself to be helped up. The pain in his shoulder was blinding, and when he tried to move his arm it was as if every nerve were open to the air, and he almost passed out as he swung his free arm around to brace the wall. “Shit, I think…”

  “You call me fucking reckless?” Gavin barked, but his anger was more out of concern.

  “I… didn’t see any other option.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  It was getting harder to stay conscious. Dylan wheezed and tried to lift his arm to point toward the woman who was still crouched up against the brick wall. At that moment, the Seal dissolved and the flurry of traffic sounds replenished themselves. Gavin’s gaze followed his, and both men gawked at her. The Rogue was starting to reassemble into a human – the scaly skin slid away, its dark red becoming pale again. His throat was frayed, the jagged edges reminding Dylan of a pink pencil eraser rubbed down to a nub. The stench of blood was heavy, pressing down.

  “Christ,” Gavin said, and walked toward her.

  She was young, no more than thirty. Her short blonde hair fell to her shoulders were it was tinged with a halo of greenish-blue dye. Her face was oval, though her round cheeks seemed to bulge from her skull like ripe apricots. The tiny elfin nose flared as she continued to hyperventilate. She was shaking as if she were hypothermic, her eyes wide as dinner plates and locked on the corpse in front of her. Gavin made a sucking sound with his teeth as he kneeled down, trying to block her view.

  “Hey,” Gavin grunted, “hey, miss, are you okay?”

  When she didn’t respond, he reached out and touched her leg. Both knees of her faded jeans had holes in them, and she flinched at his touch. “Wh-wha… what was that? What, I don’t…”

  “It’s okay, you’re in shock, just breathe,” Gavin said. He wasn’t used to dealing with women, especially not those who had just witnessed an execution of dragons. It was something that Dylan had brought up on more than one occasion, and he had been trying to work on his bedside manner, but it was still rough.

  He’d grown up an orphan, and Dylan suspected that blind resolve to be independent, never to rely on another person, was the same sort of intuition you had to have cultivated in order to have survived and made it into the Order. But it was also what kept him from being able to pursue any meaningful interpersonal relationships, especially with those of the opposite sex.

  “Listen, it’s okay now? Alright? It’s over.” He offered her his hand and she took it. He was surprised at the warmth of her fingers. Her jacket had been ripped at one shoulder and her loose white tank-top clung to her bodice. Gavin did his best to avoid staring down her cleavage, even as she stumbled against him. “What’s your name? I’m Gavin.”

  “I’m… I’m Sarah,” she breathed, “but I don’t… I don’t understand, what…”

  He turned back to where Dylan was breathing hard, his fist bared against the wall. He was struggling just to stay conscious, and that wound would need some medical attention quickly if they wanted to avoid an infection. Gavin grit his teeth. He knew what Dylan would say if he tried to bring a human back to their penthouse, but looking at her, he knew he couldn’t leave her either. She was just a human though – it didn’t matter, he could turn his back and she’d be fine. She was fine, in so much as she didn’t look injured. Whatever the Rogue had been trying to do, he’d obviously failed. She’ll be okay, he thought and was about to turn his back.

  But what about the fact she had been able to resist the Seal? He wanted to pretend he hadn’t seen it, as if he might as easily keep from acknowledging the truth of his own existence as a Shifter. It was Dylan’s fault for having
such keen eyes. Yes, she had somehow managed to keep from being frozen. He didn’t know much about the arcane arts that only the elders of the Order were allowed to practice in their secret alcoves, but no human had ever been able to resist the time-dilation. Goddamit, Gavin swore under his breath. He turned back to Sarah and held out his hand. She took it again, more as a reflex than anything else – he helped her step past the corpse, taking more care not to let her see, even though the smell of death was all pervading.

  “Listen, we have to get my friend to help, alright.”

  “But-but, what about me… oh my god, he’s dead…” she murmured, covering her mouth.

  And I’m the one that killed him, he wanted to say out loud. Had she simply forgotten that he’d been a dragon too? It would have been impossible to miss. She’s in shock, he reminded himself, maybe she’s blocking it out. In any case, there was very little time.

  “Sarah, look at me,” he said sternly, “I’m going to need your jacket.”

  Unable to reestablish the Seal, their only option would be to try and take a taxi back to the apartment, but in Dylan’s condition it would attract all sorts of unnecessary attention. He flung Sarah’s jacket over the older man’s shoulders, covering the wound, and threw an arm under his shoulders. Sarah wordlessly took the other side and they limped out of the alley.

  It only took a minute for them to hire a taxi, and Gavin cheerfully shrugged at his partner. “Too much to drink last night, go figure. Take us to Broadway and Twentieth and this fifty is yours,” he said without breaking stride, and flashed a bill in front of the chubby driver’s face.

  “Gav…” Dylan murmured, his eyes fluttering.

  “Yeah, stay with me, bud,” Gavin whispered, and caught Sarah’s look. She could just as easily betray them now, or jump out of the car. But for some reason there was calmness in her eyes. She had questions, he could tell that much, but she was willing to go on trust – at least as far as those questions being answered.