His protective magic wasn’t shabby either. The plasma stream should have left him with no reproductive organs, but his magic-reinforced suit had shunted aside the attack. There wasn’t even smoke clinging to him. That was almost as miraculous as the fact that—through all of this—Julia still hadn’t dropped the stuffed dragon I’d given her. Kid had a grip of steel.

  A series of lightning flashed blinded me. The air was burned as the jags exploded headstones, spraying rubble at me from several directions. Strangely, the rocks veered aside as if they had better things to do than hit me.

  Thunder engulfed me, the sound of God bitch-slapping the world. Underfoot, the earth shuddered from the impact. A scream separated out of the fading thunder: the shriek of the roc. It was back, falling out of the storm clouds, coming right for me.

  Fortunately, I was too manly to piss my pants, settling for an “Oh, fuck!” Instead.

  Zero-T crowded in. “Here you are, hogging all the fun again. Really, you must learn to share.”

  “Not on your life, though I do admire your timing.”

  “I’d have been here sooner, but it took a little time to erode the mountain giant to basic components. Eww, what a mess.”

  Zero-T raised palms like he was lifting an invisible weight. The ground between us and the Hazmat Man thrust itself into the air like a wave. It curved so I couldn’t see the cloudy sky—or the screaming roc. Bird Brain hit the earth wall with a loud whump! His talons broke through like clutching swords, but closed on empty air. Deflected, he flew over us, shredding the barrier in passing.

  I threw myself forward through the rubble. Beyond, I found—nothing! Hazmat Man was gone. And so was Julia. I scanned the graveyard for movement. Where the hell are they?

  “Uh, Caine?” Zero-T said.

  “Busy,” I said.

  He said, “Did it seem to you that that big bird had a saddle strapped on?”

  “What? A saddle?” I spun, staring at the overcast sky. I saw the receding roc, and yes, it did have a saddle on it, with riders, one big, one small, and one very small. The bastard was getting away with the Atlantean death spell, Julia, and the damned stuffed dragon. They dwindled very quickly.

  “Damn,” Zero-T said, “I wanted a piece of him.”

  “I’ll bring you back his head in a bag so you can have a nice skull-fuck.”

  “I don’t do guys,” Zero-T said, “and especially not when they’re dead.”

  I holstered my PPK, reached inside my Kevlar collar, and pulled up a leather cord. A little bag was tugged into view, prepared for just such a moment. I grabbed the bag, feeling a one-by-two inch vial through the black fabric. I channeled raw magic into my hand. Golden light beamed between my fingers as I invoked the magical elixir of flight.

  I was hoping to save this for something else but screw it.

  Its power radiated into me, sending tingling tendrils into my brain, supercharging the psi-center. I focused on feeling feather light, on telekinetically lifting myself off my feet. I rose, slow at first, then faster as the magic holding me finished settling in.

  “Caine, you can fly!”

  “What was your first clue?”

  His answer was lost in the wind stream as I darted into the sky. I’d had dreams like this, of flying against clouds, feeling the wind roar past, of the ground falling away to become a quilted cityscape, the patches divided by streets. I matched the roc’s altitude. Now I only had to catch up—before the elixir wore off. I hoped that would be gradually. I really didn’t want to lose this power all at once, streak to earth, and go splat, but gain requires risk at times.

  Inflamed by a desire to go pull its wings off, I watched the roc. Murderous intent fueled my flight, slingshotting me even faster. The roc looked humming bird size, then scaled up to the dimensions of a chicken, a turkey, a city bus, and then it was the size of a dragon. A few more yards, and I could pluck a few tail feathers.

  Teased by the wind, the bag I wore bounced against my chest, as I cupped both hands.

  Dragon fire pooled there, building, thrashing against my control.

  Not yet. Wait for it. Wait for it.

  As though sensing my magic, the Hazmat Man turned in the saddle, craning his neck to look back.

  Die! I shoved the plasma bolts ahead of me.

  He kicked the bird. It glanced back too, saw me, and blinked in confusion. By the time the roc angled higher, it was too late. My plasma streams closed the distance and drilled a huge hole through its right wing. The roc screamed in pain, plunging earthward in a wobbly glide.

  I allowed gravity to get hold of me again, yanking me down to follow, and willed myself to plunge even faster. I shot along one wing and drew abreast of the saddle. The Hazmat Man gripped its horn in one fist, his other hand securely wedging Julia against him like a shield. She flailed a hand without purpose, her eyes fluttering as she woke up. Seeing the ground rushing so far below made her eyes go wide. I thought it fear at first, but as she laughed, I knew she felt excitement.

  Let Disneyland get a ride like this!

  I yelled my enemy, “Hiding behind a little girl? I am so going to kill you!”

  Hazmat Man turned his visor toward me. If he hadn’t been holding onto Julia and the saddle, I think he would have flipped me off.

  Still in a steep glide, the roc swung its head over. His cruelly curved beak opened. I saw a red tongue and a throat big enough to swallow me whole. The head lunged. The beak snapped shut. I veered enough to stay clear, but was still way too close. However, since I was close, I kicked his beak with a foot wrapped in dragon flame. He flinched away as fire splashed near one of his eyes.

  The ground streaked closer. The roc pulled up, leveling out to land. The holes I’d made in his wings smoked. The feathers around the wounds had caught flame and were burning. The weather wizard didn’t seem to do anything, but a pounding squall kicked up. Rain half-blinded me, stinging my face with bits of hail. Jags of lighting zipped by, precision dropped from the raging clouds high above. Close but not close enough. Hazmat Man had to be care with that willful stuff and not hit his own ride.

  Julia was still laughing, clutching her dragon to her chest, either bracer than hell, or too much a dragon’s child to be afraid. Or maybe she was showing off.

  A sign with golden arches reared up in our way. I swerved lower to get under it. The roc just smashed through, bleeding off speed, tilting the pole, scattering its plastic pieces. The bird was skewed sideways, made a turn, and somehow returned to course, rushing over the roofs of several businesses. I think he was looking to collapse in a place that was half-way soft, a park or something. If so, he didn’t have much more time in the air to find it.

  At impact, I’d rush in and get Julia, pulling her out of danger when Hazmat Man had a lot more to worry about. A bakery with a “for sale” sign was looming nicely. Another few seconds…

  He rolled out of the saddle, yanking Julia along with him. The roc blocked my view, but I figured Hazmat Man was dropping to earth. I just had to hope he wasn’t using Julia to break his fall. I willed myself to stop, and let the roc pass me. I heard it hit a wall, scattering bricks and busting out windows. Its last screech acquired an echo as it fell into an enclosed space.

  Visibility remained bad, as the rain dumped on the city and lightning strobed the world. Thunder cracked and boomed, temporarily muting the car horns of congested traffic. Risking death, I swooped lower, skimming traffic, dodging a traffic light, as I looked for my enemy and Julia. To make matters worse, my flight acquired a shudder, losing smoothness. I had the sneaking suspicion my flight elixir was wearing off.

  Hang in there, I told the magic vial, I only need a few minutes more.

  I warmed up my Dragon Sight tattoo, and a felt a crunch across my abdomen and lower spine, as if I’d become the rat in a sprung rattrap. I grunted, distracted by the sensation for one second too long, barreling straight into the overhang of a big-rig. I bounced back, fell onto the cab of the truck, and felt it break and slide under me. I clawed at the cab but couldn’t get a grip. My body flipped and somehow, I was dangling from a side mirror strut, looking into the cab through the passenger door’s window.

  The truck skidded to a stop while the driver stared at me in incomprehension. I hurt with bruises on top of bruises. I suspected that a few bones were cracked. I probably had concussed, internal organs as well. If I didn’t have a high tolerance for pain, I’d have been limping toward the nearest hospital. But there was no time for indulgence.

  Julia.

  With the last erg of lightness I had, I climbed the side of the truck and went from the cab to the top of the trailer. With the extra height, I scanned the area, not knowing if it was a good or bad that the storm was breaking up. Just when I thought Hazmat Man had escaped me completely, I saw tendrils of dirty blue magic and Julia’s scarlet, almost pink, magic trail going south.

  There was a chance I could supercharge the elixir with a massive concentration of raw magic and get one last burst of flight. I drew energy through my body, sucking in my aura, tapping my lifeforce directly. This would either work, or the flight elixir vial was going to go off like a hand grenade. An idiot would think I took the risk out of sentiment.

  No, damn it, that’s not it.

  I’d crushed out such weakness in me decades ago. I took this risk because what was mine had to stay mine. I had a greedy compulsion about the things—uh, people—I surrounded myself with.

  The black bag that hung against my chest pulsed with yellow-white light, becoming hidden. The flight spell was no longer painless. It felt like an axe were embedded in my skull as I leaped off the trailer, heading for the mystic traces I’d found. The betraying colors led around a corner, into an alley. I slammed up through the air, arcing over the intervening building in a high-speed shortcut.

  Staring down, I saw hazmat Man dragging Julia out of the other end of the alley. They crossed into the street and waved down a gray Civic. Hazmat man dragged the driver out and sent him sprawling. The driver cursed as his vehicle left without him. I tried to veer and pursue, but the vial I wore exploded, turning me over, sending me into a diagonal slide from the sky. I saw a two-story house rushing to meet me and knew I’d die if I couldn’t soften up the roof before hitting it. My thinking was fuzzy, dull with exhaustion. I’d been firing off spell after spell, and draining my lifeforce steadily for one thing after another. I didn’t know that I had enough magic left to summon a blast of dragon fire—but it was all I knew to try.

  I felt my inner dragon shoving my awareness out of the way so he could act. He wanted to live as much as I did. Darkness swelled out of my soul, a thin veil through which I felt my limbs burn. I sensed that my skin was toughing up even more, that my bones were growing denser, as if I were changing into a dragon. I crackled with electricity and smelled ozone. Something exploded and then I fell through shingles, raining down with them until a floor kindly stop my fall, cracking a rib or two.

  Oh, god, why do I do this to myself?

  Vision returned as my inner dragon retreated, having done what he could. I dragged my hands up before my face. I expected to see scaled paws with black claws, but my hands were normal, just bit swollen. My muscles had indulged in an orgy of growth, as had my bones, but my body was reverting to normal, a lot of the damage I’d taken getting lost in the partial change.

  Having burst out of my clothes at some point and losing my Kevlar vest, I lay naked on the floor with a middle aged man in satin boxers holding a shotgun to my ass. A mid-twenties girl screamed from the nearby bed. D-cups, I noticed.

  “Move and I shoot,” I man screamed. “Carol, honey, shut up and grab my phone off the night stand. Call nine-one-one.”

  I stayed on the floor, waiting for my bones to stop thrumming with the pain and magic, hoping I’d returned to normal, or something close to it anyway. My gaze was caught by a green dildo that had fallen off the bed. It gleamed wetly.

  “Don’t let me interrupt,” I muttered.

  Carol stopped screaming, but didn’t move. The middle aged man took a step back. He carefully circled me, keeping me covered all the while. He moved toward his phone. “Funny,” he said, “you looked a lot bigger when you fell through the roof.”

  “Yeah, that happens.”

  He looked away from me for a split second to pick up his phone. Big mistake. I pushed myself up with one arm and used the other to grab his shotgun. I ripped it away and used the weapon to climb to my feet. Once I was standing, I broke the thing in half and handed back the pieces.

  The girl on the bed stared at my dangling manhood. “He looks big enough to me.”

  I glared at the man, which is hard when suppressing a grin. “Car keys.”

  The man dropped one of the pieces of the gun and snagged the keys next to his phone. “Here.”

  I took the keys and shambled away at a pace just slightly faster than a walk. I went through the house and found the garage. A switch opened the door so I could drive away in a cobalt blue Lexus. I weaved through traffic at high speed, but lost the trail of magical energy put out by Julia and the Hazmat man. The vehicle skidded as the last of my adrenaline rush fizzled out. I had a moment when I slipped into shallow sleep, snapping out as a horn blared at me. I hit a light-pole. The air bags went off and bounced me around because I didn’t have a seat belt on. Growling, I kicked and clawed out of the vehicle, falling to the pavement. It took me a moment to drag myself to my feet.

  I’ve been crashing like this way too much lately. Better stop.

  A ball-licking hipster walked up to the wreck, recording the whole thing on his camera phone. “Oh, man, someone should call nine-one-one. Hey, man, you know you’re naked right? Dude, you’re so not helping traffic driving like that.” He aimed his phone at my face, then down my body. “Just wait ’til I get this posted on YouTube.”

  I grabbed his phone and smashed his head on the roof of my wreck. After a quick change of clothes, I snapping his neck and I stuffed him the driver’s seat. Limping off, I dialed Zero-T. I looked at the car while leaning against a wall. The car’s hood was crumpled up. Leaking gas was pooling under the vehicle. I called on my inner dragon. If you please?

  My hand swung up with a mind of its own. A thread of golden lightning arced out. The gas ignited. The car went up, taking the obnoxious teen with it.

  Zero-T answered. “Yeah?”

  I gave him the closest intersection for an address. “Come get me.”

  “Do you need a cleanup crew?” he asked.

  “Not anymore.”

  FIFTEEN

  “Sorry, I’ve called dibs—on everything.”

  —Caine Deathwalker

  A day later, after several doses of healing magic, and a lot of tender loving care from Izumi, I felt well enough for bloody carnage once again; especially when a messenger came from the First Sword, actually ordering me to report to him for debriefing. I shot the messenger. I know that’s bad form, but it was only in the foot—my way of sending a message.

  He’d no doubt heard from the Old Man that I’d allowed a dragon child to be taken by the enemy, and had lost a spell of unspeakable power. Kaden wanted to drag me over the coals, and embarrass me publicly. Lauphram had that right, and had declined not too. No one else mattered. But I figured if I messed with Kaden, I might as well give equal attention to Dimitris.

  He ran the clan house, handling domestic operations, doing everything necessary to keep things around here running smooth. He looked upon the house and property as his own little kingdom, answering only to Lauphram. The time was past due for me to remind him of his limitations, and I had just the scheme.

  I dressed in my best Italian suit: midnight blue, with dark red handkerchief and tie, and went out to lounge in the living room. Osamu delivered my shoes freshly shined, and I filled him in on my plans. “Have Zero-T fabricate a sign for me, and put it on the hallway door. The sign is to read: IMPERIAL EMBASSY. From now on, these suites are an extension of my fey kingdom. I have appointed Izumi my official Ambassador. You are responsible for embassy security.”

  “And the purpose of all this,” Caine-sama?”

  “Thumbing my nose at Kaden and Dimitris is a big part of it, but it’s also preemptive. You are going to be coming and going through the house on various errands. Kaden’s people are going to mess with you, because that’s how they can mess with me. I want you to be able to chop off someone’s head and walk away without consequences because of diplomatic immunity. Izumi and I will be joining the Old Man for breakfast. She will present her credentials at the time.”

  Izumi swept into the room in a frost-pink, strapless sheath. Her high heels were red, like her lipstick, and she wore white gloves that halfway covered her upper arms. “I have credentials?”

  I looked at Osamu. “Scrounge those up too.”

  “Yes, Caine-sama. I will attend to it at once.”

  A half hour later, Zero-T breezed in. “Hey, Caine, you know that overgrown chicken you tangled with yesterday?”

  “I’m not likely to forget.”

  “We didn’t have to clean it up, just used a spell to cover the freakin’ huge hole in the building where it crashed. I called several of the more carnivorous were-clans and told them to come get it and bring their appetites. A good time was had by all, and you got a lot of good will out of it.”

  “Smart,” I said. “If I were paying you anything, you’d deserve a raise. Now get together with Osamu. There’s skullduggery afoot. You don’t want to miss out on a little payback, do you?”

  He grinned, revealing a Snap-on gold tooth. “You know that’s right.”

  Zero-T and Osamu came up with a hastily typed and printed document for Izumi. She and

  I left to meet up with the Old Man. Entering the hall, I had to step around a pair of twin girls in black and white maid uniforms. They were using a spray bottle to apply magic potion on a few spots of blood. The blood would come up easily, leaving the hall lemony fresh. They stared at me, trembling in fear as I passed. Their emotion was an acid scent in the air. The dragon part of me was good at sniffing terror, but not so good at other emotions yet.