City of Dragons: Of Flesh and Blood (2 page)

Stain:
The metaphysical burn mark left on a Lesser-Bred‘s body where their Kin self attempts to rise to the physical world. This happens during the first phase of the Shift. The marks can be very small and well hidden, or they can be large enough to paint a significant amount of a Lesser-Bred‘s body. A stain can be physical, to the point the Lesser-Bred doesn‘t even look Human. Most commonly, are under the skin color splotches, and eye color change.

Submissive:
Social rank within a group or pair.

submissive:
Social rank being lower than another. A Male may be dominant over one and submissive to another.

Taste:
Flavor.

Thrum:
The proper term for the sound a Kin or Lesser-Bred makes when emitting metaphysical wave pulses with the purpose to assist someone in healing.

Thumping:
Another sound which is more felt than heard. The purpose is unknown (and the dragons are not talking). It is a sound almost exclusively produced by a dominant Kin in a group. While the purposed is unknown the rate at which a Kin or Lesser-Bred thumps is in direct correlation to their heart beat. Side note: Sound is most often made when hunting.

True Form
: A natural metaphysical state.

Ulysiss Gland
: One located between the shoulder blades (upper) one located at the base of the spine (lower) under the skin. They cannot be seen. They fuel the biological engine which controls the Shift. Pushing it can have an orgasmic effect.

Wall:
Structure surrounding the Dens. Man made.

Whirr:
A higher pitched version of the purr, does not have as much of an effect on healing. The whirr is a sound usually associated with pleasure. Things that feel good will often make Kin and Lesser-Breds whirr.

Whistle:
A high pitched sound, made almost exclusively by submissives within a group or white-scales.

White-Scale:
Newly Hatched and not fully formed with a Human shape.

Wizard:
People born leaking magic.

The buzz of chatter died off as Haley Night entered the classroom. She flashed her best welcome-aboard-smile to the room of new recruits. A few of them smiled back. Others got busy with their notebooks and survival manuals -- aka
Kin Behavior 101
.

“Good morning.”

A wave of groggy early morning replies echoed back.

In spite of the lack of enthusiasm, this was the part of Haley’s job with the Center for Kin and Folk Relations she liked best. Here in the class room it was safe. Here people didn’t get bled on, clawed, or killed. And if these new recruits for the Civil Peace Division paid attention and used what she taught them, most had a very good chance of surviving the streets of Atlanta when they became full-fledged cops.

Haley tucked a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear, pulled out the list of names, and called roll. When she brought her eyes up and scanned the room, thirty-two pairs of Human eyes stared back. Most were men, but there were a few brave women were scattered in for flavor.

Getting women involved in the CPD was always an uphill battle. Most were just too scared to take a job where dealing with dragons was part of the requirements.

Thing is, the women had a better chance at keeping the Males under control. And when dealing with a species which could not only kill a person, but eat them, control was a must.

Haley cleared her throat. “In case you don’t know who I am, my name is Haley Night. I’m an Agent with the CFKR. I will be your instructor for the next six weeks, and in that time you and I are going to get to know each other really, really well.”

Scattered laughter followed, and one of the guys whistled. Tall, blond, and testosterone sitting a few rows back threw a glance at his buddies, then cast his eyes back at Haley. “Is it true what they say? That you’re one of them?” His buttered chicken scent—a flavor associated with most Humans—sweetened with the scent of sex. “’Cause I gotta be honest, you don’t look like the ones they showed us at the Academy.” Blondie’s eyes flicked up and down.

No, and Haley wouldn’t look like them. Most Kin had an unmistakable flawless appearance. Beauty personified. It was an impossible type of perfection impressed on them by their Queen. Haley had been kicked out of the Dens when she was still a white-scale, impressed by a Human woman and practically raised by the Bureau.

“I assure you, Mr…”

“Daniel Crosky. You can call me Danny.” One of the guys behind Danny gave his shoulder a quick set of bumps with his fist, and they exchanged cocky grins.

Haley pretended not to notice. There were always a few like this in every class. Mostly because of the rumors surrounding her sexual promiscuity.

Because good girls don’t do palm licking.

“Danny then.” Haley walked around to the front of her desk and crossed her legs as she sat on the edge. Today she wore a red blouse and black skirt, with her favorite pair of Stuart Weitzmans on her feet. Three inch heels and a nice double ankle strap. “The answer to your first question is, yes. I really am Kin.” She grinned flashing fangs. There was a collective gasp. One of the guys in the first row dropped his eyes to his book and wouldn’t look back up.

I’ll give that one two weeks.

Danny didn’t look away. He didn’t even drop his smile.

The dark-haired woman in the third row asked, “How come all we ever see are Males?”

Going by the anxious sounds from Danny and his friends, they were equally curious about the answer.

Haley looked at the woman. “The Male-to-Female ratio among dragons is roughly a thousand to one. And you only see Males because Females stay below ground and within the Hive, protected by their Harems.”

A few women smiled and tossed eyes back and forth.

“Harems?” That from Danny. “You mean like more than one?”

Well, with that kind of reference the only way to go on the number scale was up. Genius.

Haley smiled. “Actually, it can be dozens.”

Danny and his friends made unhappy faces. While the men shifted in their seats, all the women leaned forward. This kind of reaction wasn’t unusual. Most Humans were equally curious and repelled by all things Kin. And while explaining those differences was always fun, they had to start with the basics.

Haley pulled her manual into her lap and opened it. “We’ll cover those types of social aspects in the next few weeks. Right now, we need to go over the universal rules for dealing with dragons. Oh, and Danny…” The guy brought his eyes up. “The answer to your second question is no.”

Danny glanced at his buddies and sat forward in his desk. “Um, I only asked you one.”

“You did, but you’re thinking about asking me out after class, and the answer is no.”

Laughter broke out, and Danny turned a nice shade of magenta as he proceeded to melt into his desk in an attempt to disappear.

Haley flashed him one last smile, then scanned the room and said, “Rule number one: Never, ever run…”

*** *** ***

Farley ran.

His shitkickers pounded the pavement as he pushed his Human form to the limits. The muscles in his tawny legs ached and burned, and he could feel the ligaments threatening to tear. As a Kin, he had incredible strength and speed. The only problem was Human forms weren’t made to handle it. Not only did pushing himself cause damage, it took a lot of resources. The burn across Farley’s skin shot up a few more notches as his metaphysically carved shell reached its limit.

Up ahead that damn Faerie Inoata dove into a cab.

Not catching Inoata wasn’t an option. There was no way Farley was going to spend another night in an alley out in the Gray Zone. Between the rats, cockroaches, stray cats, and skin-heads, even his shit-hole apartment was starting to look good.

Farley leaped and slid across the hood of a cab parked between two meters. His boots hit the pavement, and he was off again, the chains on his skaters thrashing with every foot fall. As the cab pulled out, he could see the little prick in the back, his eyes wide and hands flailing.

Too bad for Inoata, the traffic didn’t seem to want to cooperate for his getaway.

Farley’s legs ate up the distance; and when the Faerie saw the cab wasn’t going to be able to outrun him because of traffic, he bailed.

“That’s right, motherfucker…” Farley shot right up the center line, dodged a pickup truck, and bolted between two more cars. Horns blared, but he didn’t care. His eyes were on Inoata who was now on the other side of a line of parked cars. The MARTA station was only a hundred yards away, and there was a good chance the bastard would duck down into the subway and lose Farley in the crowds. “Give it up, asshole…you…are…mine…”

In one last surge which ripped his ACL, Farley cleared another car and slammed into the Faerie, taking him down.

“You son-of-a-bitch!” Farley slammed his chelae into Inoata’s scrawny shoulders and bright red blood welled up around his fingers.

The Faerie let loose with a girly scream. “I didn’t do it. I’m innocent!”

“You lied to me!” One hard shake was enough to rattle the guy into silence. “The manifest you gave me was bullshit, and I don’t appreciate bullshit!”

Inoata’s green eyes peeled wide, and the ripe luscious scent of fear rolled off him in waves. Normally, fear was a flavor which stirred Farley’s
need
. But everything about Faeries was foul, including their flesh.

Inoata did some more useless pawing and clawing with his dainty four-fingered hands. “Rupa said you work for the cops, and that if I gave you anything, he’d have my ass on a platter.”

Farley leaned in, letting the little piece of shit have an up-close-and-personal with his tiger-sized choppers. “You fuck-wad. Every flesh trader in the Dens knows who I work for. How the hell do you think I know when and where the shakedowns are going to be?” A deep growl rolled out of Farley’s chest, and Inoata’s whimpers turned into a full-fledged wail. “Now, I want that manifest. The right one this time, or I might just have to hold my nose and chew out your throat!”

Up ahead, the early morning commuters emerged from below.

Inoata craned his head back and threw out his hands, flapping them like a pansy. “Help me! Somebody help me! Man-eater! Man-eater!”

Farley’s head snapped up to see a lot of nervous Human eyes staring at him. This was so not what he needed right now. And if that didn’t beat all, here comes the cavalry in the form of subway rent-a-cops.

“Shit!”

Inoata squeezed out a high pitched giggle between his gasps of pain. “You are so fucked, wyrm, you are so--”

“Shut up!”

With their guns drawn and barking out cliché lines like “down on the ground,” the transit cops looked more like stunt doubles on some low budget cop show. “Get your hands up, wyrm.”

Inoata making himself look like a helpless victim wasn’t difficult considering he was barely five feet tall and had the build of a teenage Human.

Farley retracted his chelae and held up his hands, but he kept his body firmly planted on top of the POS.

“Look, I’m a CFKR informant. This Faerie is wanted for questioning.” He started to smile but thought better of it. After all, nothing says you-can-trust-me like fangs.

Rent-a-Cop Number One looked like he was about to have a heart attack or an aneurysm. Farley couldn’t decide which. His face was blotched red over purple as he gasped for breath. Funny thing, his chubby buddy bringing up the rear wasn’t half as taxed. Looked a lot saner, too.

Over Excited did some waving with his gun. “Down on the ground, now!”

Farley said, “Check my wallet.” The two cops looked at each other, then Farley. Chubby Buddy must have drawn the short straw because he took the lead and inched in. “Left coat pocket.”

The man gave him a quick pat before dipping in his hand for a feel. “It’s empty.” Chubby buddy backed up.

Farley glanced around as if he might see it lying on the side walk. His wallet not only had his Center ID but his last fifty bucks. “Shit, it must have fallen out.”

Over Excited moved closer. Which meant his gun moved closer. “On the ground, wyrm!”

Farley checked the rent-a-cop’s name tag and said, “Officer Kennedy, I need you to call the Center. I’ve spent four days in an alley. I’m tired and hungry. I just lost my wallet chasing this asshole; and if I get off him, he’s going to run. Ask for Garrett, he’ll vouch for me.”

And by the look on their faces, the cops were totally impressed.

Not.

Rent a Cop said, “I’m not going to ask you again. Get off the boy, or I’m going to shoot your scaly ass.”

Boy? Farley narrowed his eyes at Inoata.

Before Farley could lay out any threats for the Faerie to take home, a snap-crackle-pop sounded off near his left ear, and he was thrown to the side, helpless against the spasms seizing up his limbs. Inoata leapt to his feet and stamped the waffle pattern of his combat boot into Farley’s jaw before he took off.

Farley tried to go after the guy despite his body putting up a protest, but the cold end of Kennedy’s Derringer swung in his face. “Stay down, lizard boy.”

Chubby Buddy rolled Farley over, gave him another quick pat down. He pulled Farley’s wallet from his right pocket and tossed it on the sidewalk. Farley glared at the piece of traitor leather and wondered when the damn thing had migrated to the other pocket. Didn’t matter now, because Inoata was long gone and the rent-a-cop twins were snapping on the cuffs.

Farley glared at the two men. “Wow, you must be really proud of yourself. Think they’ll give you a promotion? Upgrade your plastic badges for a real metal one?” A shoe came down and smashed him in the side. “Aw, fuck…” Farley turned his head so he could throw a dirty look at Chubby Buddy. “Damn, and I thought maybe you were the nice one.”

“Shut the hell up.”

“Why? You gonna hit me with your bug zapper again?”

The answer to Farley’s question landed right on the back of his neck, and his face kissed the pavement.