“You do.”

  “Magica Porta!” Mathaal called out. The smoke from the burning house swirled until it became a circle large enough for the ancient Dragonsoul. He took off on his great white wings and flew through the gate. Once his spiked tail disappeared through the portal, the circle closed with a flash and a barely audible pop.

  Steven was left alone with his Escort. He didn’t have the Animus to heal Liam, and neither did Tessa, so they dragged him back to the Orange Crush and the F-150 still parked in the driveway. Both vehicles had somehow survived the battle.

  They got blankets from the trucks and wrapped themselves and the Ronin up.

  They leaned against the cars, watching the house burn, in silence. The black smoke reached up to the cloud-strewn sky. A fat raindrop struck the ground next to Steven. Only one.

  A million thoughts went through his head. He was now the Dragonsoul Prime of the Great Plains Primacy. He’d been a dragon less than a month. How could he have done so much in so little time?

  The answer came immediately. The Drokharis blood in him ran true and strong. More than that, though, it was thanks to his Escort, the three brave women at his side. And he’d acquired powerful vassals—both the reluctant Yellow Ronin and William “Bud” Novak.

  “Thank you,” he said to his Escort.

  “You are most welcome,” Liam muttered. He pulled himself up. “So did we win?”

  “We did,” Tessa said. She shrugged. Smiled. “It wasn’t even that hard.”

  There was a beat of shocked quiet. Then Mouse erupted. “What the fuck, Tessa? We had to use every trick in the book, and still it could’ve gone either way. For the love of biscuits, that wasn’t easy. I’m not sure I’m up for another fight like that. Ever.”

  “I am,” Aria said. “And I do love biscuits. Speaking of which, I’m famished. We probably should’ve kept some food and water in the cars. The house was doomed from the start.”

  Steven felt his hunger keenly. He would’ve eaten anything at that moment. He eyed Karlos Butcher’s snake body. That wouldn’t be too much like cannibalism, would it?

  Gravel crunched behind them. Lights flashed through the weeds of the rough road.

  They all turned into dragons—except Tessa, obviously, though she was already loading her Peacekeeper—and twirled as they prepared for whatever fresh hell was headed their way. A Chevy Silverado puttered up to them pulling a Jayco camper, a big ol’ unit that could house a small family easily.

  Steven tensed, mind spinning. What the fuck?

  The Silverado stopped, and Bud stepped out of the truck. He glanced up at the four dragons peering down at him. “So, wow, yeah, dragons. I knew you weren’t bullshitting me. But, guys, aren’t you supposed to stay hidden? I mean, isn’t that a thing?”

  Steven shifted back into a human, as did his friends.

  Tessa holstered her gun, ran to Bud, and hugged him. “Oh, Bud Novak! You missed this huge fight, which was probably a good thing. We thought you’d come at the exact wrong time and we’d have to save you. Again.”

  Bud shrugged. “That’s me, wrong place, wrong time. My timing is usually impeccable.”

  “Tell me you have food in that trailer,” Steven said. He walked over and shook the guy’s hand. He didn’t care he was naked.

  Bud, though, got uncomfortable. “Dude, I know I’m your vassal and all, but I do not want to be looking at your unit. I brought some clothes, and yeah, the camper is fully stocked. Because, me, yes, I’m awesome.”

  Weather on the plains changes quickly. The sky, now loaded with clouds, let loose rain that dropped in sheets, driving them inside the trailer. The storm was a blessing. It would put out the house fire and stop the flames from spreading. Also, the fire department wouldn’t be coming to break up their little victory party.

  Liam knew how to turn on the generator. Bud was clueless. It seemed he’d bought both the truck and the trailer that day in Denver. He said he wasn’t a camper, and Cheyenne had some nice hotels, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

  They pushed out the slides and took turns using the shower. Steven had never loved hot water like he did that night as he soaped his bruised body. Tessa had healed him, but his skin was still a network of wounds. However, he took such satisfaction knowing that Mulk’s days of clawing up anyone were over. He’d avenged his father. He’d beaten the odds and kept his Escort safe.

  When Steven finished showering, he found Liam standing at the stove in CSU sweats, green and yellow. Most of the clothes that Bud had acquired were Colorado State University gear. That was okay.

  The giant man cooked using every single propane burner. Rain tapped on the roof, and that was their dinner music. Bud’s people had filled the Jayco trailer with food, but he had no idea what they had. Steven expected another gourmet meal, but instead, Liam made chili dogs. Steven went to town, shoveling the food down until he’d eaten every single bite. He ate a whole watermelon by himself.

  Aria picked at the food, but she wasn’t so sure about it.

  Tessa tapped her shoulder. “Welcome to America, Aria. They say apple pie is the great American food, but I could totally make an argument for chili dogs.”

  The barista then took her turn in the shower. She came out smelling clean in a terry-cloth robe, toweling off her hair. She limped around. Her bones might not be broken anymore from being trampled by the boar, but her muscles would take longer to heal. She smiled. “Is Steven still eating?”

  “Watching him eat is better than Netflix.” Mouse grinned. She was sipping from a Coors, one of their non-alcoholic brands.

  He remembered what she’d said during the fight. I’m Mouse. And I bite. It had been so epic. Steven took a minute to feel his love for her. She’d come a long way. Yes, she’d doubted him, but those doubts were gone. He was a Prime now, with his own territory. He’d thought it would make him uncomfortable, but no, it felt like he’d come home at long last. It was his destiny as a Dragonsoul to rule.

  “So, I’m the Prime of the Great Plains Primacy,” he said as they sat around, drinking beer. With the slides pushed out, they had plenty of room: a large table with four seats and a couch across the wide aisle. “How does this work?”

  Liam cleared his throat. “We’ll contact Mulk’s legal team. The paperwork will be immense, but you now own every single one of his assets. His vassals, those that weren’t in the fight, will come to you, pledging their loyalty. Now, however, his enemies are your enemies. All the Dragonsouls in the neighboring Primacies will be testing you to see if you are weak enough to conquer.”

  “Cassius Pine will be leading the charge,” Mouse said. “That fucker is probably wetting himself in excitement.”

  It took a second for Steven to remember that Cassius Pine owned the Rocky Mountain Primacy. “We’ll take care of him. That was the deal. First Mulk, then Pine. You’ll get your revenge, Mouse. I promise.”

  Steven knew that he’d have to face Pine, but he also knew that the Dragonsoul Conclave would be coming for him as well. Mulk hadn’t been their only hitman. That council had a lot to answer for: conspiring to murder the entire Drokharis family, locking away Mathaal, and exiling Uchiko and the Onari Guard.

  Bud perked up. “Legal team? Assets? That sounds like contract work. I think I might’ve just wet myself a little. I’ve talked to my dad about taking you on as a client. Yeah, my old man wasn’t so sure. He doesn’t go for any kind of deal that doesn’t involve at least seven zeroes. How much is Mulk’s estate worth?”

  “Millions, easily,” Aria said.

  Tessa tittered. She’d gotten a little drunk from the beer. “Rags to riches to rags to riches, the Steven Drokharis story. We’re rich again?”

  “Very rich,” Aria agreed. Her eyes also twinkled from the beer. Steven saw a gleam there, and he knew she was thinking about what they’d do that night to regain their drained Animus.

  “Speaking of rich,” Bud said, “I have far too much money to squeeze myself onto one of these beds. I’m gonna drive back to Cheyenne and find a nice suite.”

  “Do you mind if I join you?” Liam asked. “I think our Prime needs some time alone with his Escort.”

  “Sounds good,” Steven said. He’d been wondering how he’d get any loving done with Bud and the Ronin around.

  The two men left to brave the storm back to Cheyenne, leaving Steven alone with the three women.

  THIRTY

  Rahaab walked down the steps into the ruins of his brother’s home. While Mathaal had faded with age, Rahaab had been gifted with greater longevity of mind, body, and spirit. He still had his strength and his wits. He was a tall, slender older man with white hair in a ten-thousand-dollar suit.

  His vassals had stayed above, on the island, to interrogate Uchiko and the rest of her malformed Dragonskins. He should’ve had them all killed. That had been his vote during the Conclave, but other softer, stupider Dragonsouls had disagreed.

  At the bottom of the pit, he found his brother sleeping in squalor. One of the windows was caked with ice. The scent of ocean filled the air as well as the odor of burned books and mold. He’d have his vassals—and there were a huge number of them—come and do repairs and some cleaning. His brother, however senile, was still royalty.

  “Mathaal, wake,” Rahaab said. “I know you’ve been about tonight, casting forbidden spells and helping our enemy.”

  The old dragon’s purple eyes flickered open. “Icharaam?”

  “No, brother, we slew him millennia ago.”

  Mathaal closed his eyes. “Yes, a long time ago. I forget. I forget everything now. I saw Stefan Drokharis. You failed to kill him.”

  “No, Stefan is dead. His son, Steven, however, is still alive. His rise to power has been meteoric.”

  “Meteors,” the old dragon whispered. “I remember meteors. I remember racing comets through the galaxy. I remember bathing in the fire of stars.”

  “Those days are behind us,” Rahaab said. He touched his brother. “And we both know why. Icharaam might’ve had odd ideas about our destiny, but you and I knew the truth.”

  “Icharaam? Will he come to visit?” Mathaal asked.

  “No. He is dead.”

  “Why am I not dead?” Mathaal asked. “Why spare me? Why let me go on living in his madness?”

  “Because you are the only family I have left,” Rahaab said. How many times had he considered cutting his big brother’s throat? Too many to count. “Why did you help the Drokharis scion? He will have inherited his father’s magic and his foolishness.”

  “Help? Did I help him?” Mathaal asked. “There was Mulk, and I wanted to murder him, but there were so many dragons there, hurting me. I fought to save myself. I didn’t want to help him. Or did I?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Rahaab murmured. “I’m going to finish this myself. Steven Drokharis must die. Surely you can see that.”

  “I see fire,” Mathaal said. He shifted and turned his gaze on Rahaab. “I see revolution. And you, my brother, will not be able to stop it.”

  Rahaab laughed and laughed. “Perhaps, brother, but you will not be around to see it.” He wouldn’t kill him. Never that, despite how convenient it would be. But there were other ways … Rahaab was ancient and resourceful. He cast a spell to make sure Old Matchstick wouldn’t trouble him or anyone else ever again …

  ۞۞۞

  Steven got off Aria, who lay gasping on the bed in the back bedroom of the trailer. The camper stopped rocking. Rain continued to drum a tattoo on the roof. A very naked and sweaty Tessa kissed him. Then she bent and kissed Aria, who hungrily drank in the barista’s mouth.

  “Magica Cura,” Steven whispered, trailing a finger down Aria’s thigh. They’d been having sex and casting healing spells for hours. While he should’ve been tired, he couldn’t stop himself. It all felt so delicious now that Mulk was gone.

  “Go check on Mouse,” Tessa whispered. She reached down and touched Aria between her slick thighs.

  Aria arched her back and hissed, “Yes. More. Yes, Tessa, yes. Touch me. Make love to me. Devour me.”

  “As you wish.” Tessa kissed her a final time and then started her way down Aria’s body, pausing to suck on her breasts.

  That sight put a little tingle through Steven. But Mouse, Mouse had been waiting patiently. It was her turn now.

  He went to her on the sofa that folded out into a bed. At first, he thought she was sleeping, but when he drew close, she threw off her blankets, grabbed him, and threw him down on the mattress. She was naked.

  She slid on top of him. She was wet and ready.

  In seconds, he was inside her, and she leaned back to touch herself. Lightning flashed. Her nipples were hard on her pert breasts. Those were wonders of nature, certainly, but he didn’t like the three dark bullet wounds decorating her chest.

  “Magica Cura,” Steven whispered and watched those wounds become pink flesh, pale and healthy. The hurricane circle tattoo was a black splotch on her upper left chest.

  When he healed her, she orgasmed, gasping, and then she got her legs under her so she could really enjoy the ride.

  “Listening to you three in the other room was making me crazy,” Mouse hissed. “But I knew you’d come to me. I know you love me.”

  “I do, Mouse,” Steven said. He reached out to touch her breasts. “I love you so much. I’m so glad you joined us.”

  “I can’t imagine my life without you,” she said.

  And then both couldn’t talk as she moved up and down him until the ecstasy was too much, and they were overwhelmed by it …

  ۞۞۞

  Steven was up first the next morning. They’d slept through the sunrise and it was nearing noon when he finally let himself out of the camper. The sky was a spotless blue, a dome of perfect azure. Big sky country indeed.

  The scent of the drying sagebrush gave him a sweet perfume.

  The house, what remained of it, was a jumble of wet black wood and skeletons. The dead were all around. During the night, all of the dragons and the Morphling, Karlos Butcher, had returned to their human forms. Interesting. So, it seemed Dragonsouls all became normal corpses after varying lengths of time.

  He walked over to the new geographical feature that Gideon Scaramanga had pulled out of the ground. The stone spires remained, giving a texture to the eastern side of the Infinity Ranch. It wasn’t the Double-Circle anymore. That old house was gone.

  He’d rebuild, something grand, something with fortifications, and he’d make sure that the pattern of the concrete in the back garden remained untouched. They didn’t have another scroll to open a portal, but who knew? Maybe they would visit Mathaal and ask for a new one.

  That didn’t seem like a good idea. That island was a trap now. Most likely, the Conclave would make sure no one else bothered the ancient Dragonsoul captured there. Was he imprisoned? Or had he found a home with Uchiko and the Onari Guard?

  Steven hoped it was the latter. Mathaal deserved kindness and rest after his long life.

  He circled the stone monoliths and saw something glittering on the ground beside the house. He walked over and found Tessa’s missing Colt next to a charred steak knife. What was that about?

  He picked up the pistol, tucked it into the back of his sweats, then meandered to where Mulk lay dead, stiffening in the dirt. Steven looked down on his enemy. They’d make another fire, and they would burn the bodies, and he would be done with that chapter in his life.

  With a content sigh, he turned away from Mulk and backtracked toward the camper. With a thought, he pulled up his skill tree, checking it over as he walked in the cool morning air. He saw he had leveled up. He bet every one of his vassals had as well—even Liam Strider. The battle last night had been epic.

  He grinned at the Inferno Exhalant. Hell yeah, he’d mastered that. But what really excited him was the fact that he now had enough Animus to use the Magica Impetim spells. His eyes went to the IonClaws skill on the Pugna tail of the dragon. So far, he hadn’t seen those in action, and he wondered why none of the Dragonsouls had used them.

  Tessa walked over to him holding two coffee cups. Every Dragonsoul should have at least one barista in their Escort. She was squinting against the glaring light.

  She offered him a cup. “Hey, don’t blame me. It’s instant. Like with flavor bursts or some shit. I’m kicking myself for leaving my coffee supplies in the house. But, really, Bud is to blame. He screwed up. Big time. I think you should fire him.”

  “Can I fire vassals?” Steven asked. He sipped the brew, and indeed, it was instant coffee and hideous. “Or do I have them killed?”

  “Good point,” Tessa said. “Just wanted to let you know, I called our families,” she said after a moment. “My sister, my mom, my brother, they’re all okay. They had no idea their lives were in danger, which is awesome. I also called your mom and told her it was okay for her to go home.”

  “I see tattoos in their future,” Steven said.

  “Jared would love that.” Tessa paused. “We’re going to have to move them to more secure houses, though. You get that, right?”

  Steven nodded. “For your family? Definitely. My mom won’t move. However, you know that passage in the fifth chapter of the second volume? It talked about warding spells. I think the third volume is going to give us what we need to protect them.”

  “Big time magic.” Tessa’s smile was as bright as the sun, and though she hadn’t cast a spell, Steven felt healed by it.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said.

  Tessa blushed. “You just like me because I like you so much.”

  “No,” Steven said seriously. “I love you because you’re you.”

  Tears crept into her eyes. She motioned to her cup. “I’m not crying because of what you said. I’m crying because the coffee is so bad.”

  Aria and Mouse joined them, and they walked out into the sage. The world seemed so big, an eternity of sky and plains, and then Steven realized that in a very real way, he owned all he could see.