Forged in Fire: An Urban Fantasy (Moonlight Dragon Book 4) (14 page)

My throat tightened up. I'd always assumed that he and Melanie were only having fun. That was what they'd both told me, in private and in public. To hear now that they were as serious as Vale and I—I prayed I was strong enough to do what needed to be done.

I crossed my fingers as we headed for The Chapel of Big Dreams. It needed to not only still be standing, but be accessible. If the demonic wolves had staked out all the seal locations, I didn't know what we would do.

No, check that. I would burn all the wolves that stood in my way…if fire even had an effect on them.

The Audi jerked and Christian cursed as he wrestled with the wheel.

"It's like trying to drive over the back of a dinosaur," he gritted out as café tables bounced violently off the hood.

I could feel the ground moving as we drove, and I could see it reflected in other cars that were trying to navigate the wrecked Strip as they slid across the road, tires streaming smoke.

I stabbed a finger ahead. "There's the chapel!"

"No sign of wolves," Vale said from the backseat, his voice strained with pain. The rough ride couldn't be helping matters but he was like me: he'd stop only when he no longer breathed.

"That's just part of our problem," I said as I bounced in my seat, wordlessly urging Christian to drive faster. "We don't know if we're even capable of defending the seal. So far our track record is pretty lame."

"We have to try," Vale declared firmly.

Christian's car bounced over metals chairs and a red umbrella that must have floated over from an outdoor café. The sounds coming from beneath the car made me cringe and hope the vehicle lasted long enough to get us where we needed to be.  I wouldn't be surprised if all four wheels came off and the engine exploded soon.

A wave of water burst over an upended taxi in a huge spray that hit our windshield so violently it was a miracle the glass didn't shatter.

"Jesus," Christian said as the water pushed us into a skid, "Jesus." Muscles strained in his shoulders and arms as he fought for control.

Luck was finally with us. Up ahead, the Rift tapered to a stop. It was only temporary, for the ground broke open again forty yards farther ahead where it once again yawned wide, eating nearly two entire southbound lanes. But that break in the Rift allowed us to cross over it to the other side of the street. Christian carefully navigated around the end of the crack and up onto the sidewalk in the hopes it would keep the car in place.

When we jumped out, I was struck by the tension in the air. It reminded me of the air around power lines, that taut feeling that something was about to snap or explode. It was incredibly noisy with the sounds of buildings falling apart, car alarms blaring, and sirens screaming. Two helicopters added to the cacophony as they panned their spotlights over the destruction.

But we hadn't even reached the peak of awfulness. The Rift was open, but so far only eerie light and heat came out of it. Soon, those beings traveling up from Hell would reach the surface, and then life as I knew it would end in the most horrific manner possible. Shivering, I raced for the door of The Chapel of Big Dreams.

I never made it.

A demonic wolf leaped between me and the door. Its spikes flared as if preparing to shoot red liquid at me. It looked like a spiky anemone on legs, but so much worse. Its gnashing, mutilated fangs raised gooseflesh all over my body. There was nothing but pure hatred in its glowing red eyes. And yet…something felt familiar, the way its spikes dripped from its jaw, maybe. Somehow I knew: this was the new alpha of the Black Die pack, the bad attitude one with the mustache and goatee. He'd gained control of the pack and this had become his fate, a creature that was demon possessed.

It leaped at me and I fell back, simultaneously reaching for my dragon. Before I could, something white and as large as a buffalo rammed into the demonic wolf, sending it hurtling into the street. Sorcery, purple and misty, swarmed over the fallen wolf and in mere seconds pulped it into a black ball the size of an orange.

"My god." I whirled to face the white attacker and yelled out in shock at what I saw.

It was a creature I'd never seen or heard of. It possessed four legs and a white body that resembled a powerful lion's. Sprouting from the top of the body were two long, llama-like necks, and attached to each was a head: one vaguely feline with enormous green eyes, the other dark-skinned and with human features. Both were hairless.

You failed, defender of the seals.

"Azima!" I gasped at the feline head.

"A dragon sealed this Rift," said the other, human head, which was vaguely male and vaguely resembled the street hustler, though his voice sounded different, neutral and sort of vacuous, as though a mannequin were speaking. "We thought we could trust you. A dragon should not have re-opened it."

"I didn't mean to! I had no idea!"

The damage is done, and this world shall end.

I staggered, feeling faint.

"Something can be done," Vale insisted from behind me. "Otherwise you wouldn't have bothered to save her."

The two heads looked at each other, as if exchanging silent communication.

"The Geminix can be formed," the hustler head said, blandly, as though it didn't care either way. Except I knew that it
did
care. Vale was right about that. There remained some chance of fixing this, however slim.

"What's the Geminix?" I asked urgently.

As the capstone seal was formed once by a dragon, so may it be formed again by a dragon. But it must be a pure twin. No other substitution will suffice.

"A pure twin?" I felt concussed. Everything this creature said was a struggle for me to understand. "Is that like, an exact duplicate? Is that what you mean?"

The Geminix, once formed, will re-energize the seals and close the Rift. But time is running short. The soldiers of the dark are rising to the gate.

"Those soldiers didn't get the memo and are wasting their time," I declared. "We're forming this Geminix thing. Just tell me how. What do we use to make it?"

"The dragon holds the knowledge. You must—"

A huge fist emerged from the darkness and smashed the Azima-hustler creature into the pavement. I couldn't scream. I couldn't back away. I could only stare as a literal giant took two thunderous steps forward and pounded the white creature again, completely pulverizing it and cutting off Azima's bleat of pain.

Shock and horror left me dumb. It was like my brain had checked out. I stared, agape, as I turned to face the giant. It was an amalgam of troll and rhino, a fifty-foot tall wall of angry muscle, towering over all of us. And it wasn't alone.

"There will be no closing this delightful gift now that you've opened it," Vagasso said from behind the giant. He stood with Dr. Morrow in the giant's shadow. His smile was gentle, comforting. "Stop fighting, Anne. Your war is now over."

I didn't waste time exchanging quips with this asshole. First things first. I jumped into my dragon so I could deal with the giant gray killer of Azima and the hustler. I flew a circle around the giant, inciting it to roar and swat at me. Its reactions were surprisingly swift for such a large creature. Each time it swung at me, it created a wind powerful enough to rock me and force me to correct my balance.

To counter, I spat fire at its back. The giant roared as the flames crawled up its shoulders. It swung blindly at me, trying to knock me out of the sky. I circled again, spitting sporadic bolts of fire like flaming bullets. Enraged, the giant flailed at me with both arms. I just barely avoided a large fist that would have knocked me to the ground and ended this fight for good. I dipped and flew low, just above the pavement. There, I hovered, catching my breath.

The giant took advantage of my pause and punched at me. I darted away—just in time for the giant's follow-through to smash into Dr. Morrow…whom I'd deliberately paused in front of.

She didn't stand a chance. Being punched by the giant was like being struck by a car. Her body flew through the air and hit a building thirty feet away. I heard the crunch of her bones breaking but I didn't feel a moment's remorse.
That's for Pauline and the others you hurt, Dr. Morrow.

With her taken care of, I stopped playing around and flew up to the giant's head. I wrapped my tail around its face, hooking behind one ear for a good grip. It roared in fury but all it took was a powerful wrench and I snapped the monster's neck. Like a Redwood, the giant fell silently, almost gracefully, onto the roof of the chapel. It crushed the building as though it had been made of Styrofoam and toothpicks.

Neither Vagasso nor I would be able to access the seal now. But I wasn't able to celebrate that victory for long. Christian shouted a warning. I snapped my head around just in time to see Vagasso transforming.

Since the moment he'd been rejected by the wards at Tomes, I'd questioned what kind of dark spirit Vagasso might be. I still didn't know—the possibilities for demonic and black magick creations were too numerous and varied—but what I saw now told me enough: Vagasso was a monster in every sense of the word.

The tattooed curses on his scalp had begun to glow as though they were lit by yellow neon. Winding black tendrils of supernatural smoke seeped from his feet and curled up around him, obscuring his body and allowing mere glimpses of the glowing curses on his head. The smoke expanded outwards. I zoomed quickly around it, trying to create a wind to whip the smoke away. But as it was sorcerous, the blackness didn't move. Instead, it dissolved on its own…revealing a monster that was half-man and half-scorpion.

Vagasso's monster wasn't comparable to a centaur, which sported a transition from man to horse that was clean and sleek, like two species carefully sewn together. Vagasso's man and scorpion had mashed together and then the scorpion blood had tried to absorb the man. To me, that was how he looked: like a man being violently absorbed by an arachnid. Shiny black plates bit into his abdomen and chest, turning the edges of his skin red and pus-swollen. Black bristles stabbed through the skin of his forearms, and his fingers had fused together in an unsuccessful attempt to form working pincers; they were simply mutilated. The skin of his face was mottled black, as though rot were eating away at it, and more bristles spiked out from his temples and down the side of his jaw.

He looked angry, and in pain. He deserved it.

But maybe none of that mattered when he had that enormous stinger at the end of his tail. The nasty-looking telson at the end was the size of a football, and boasted a stinger as long as my middle finger. You could be all sorts of ugly when you had a weapon like that.

"Hell is the only salvation," Vagasso sang out as his stinger snapped forward, striking Christian dead center of his chest.

I roared in shock and grief as my friend collapsed backward onto the pavement. As Christian lay unmoving, Vagasso turned his sights on Vale. Vale shifted into his gargoyle and launched himself toward the safety of the nearest building. Before his gargoyle could reach it, Vagasso's stinger snapped out again, biting the gargoyle between its shoulder blades. It dropped out of the sky like a shot pigeon.

I don't know what happened next. I went berserk for a long time. There was an impression of fire and light, of a pain so crystalline and bright it felt like I'd been stabbed by a bullet full of corrosive acid. It made me screech in agony but I endured it because I could do nothing else. There was no giving up. No surrendering. My body was pounded by dark magick. I felt dozens of poisonous stings all over my body, but the fire continued to pour from my throat. I was dragon of doom. Dragon of justice. Dragon destroyer of all my enemies!

But Vagasso refused to die.

Though I engulfed him in a tornado of fire, he remained unaffected. He laughed in the midst of the inferno, calling out, "Oh, Anne, you're so amusing," which only enraged me further.

"Do you think," he said, as he snapped his stinger at me, just missing my wing, "that I would fight a dragon if I held any fear of fire? You're no threat to me, little girl. You're a butterfly that has been coddled and told she is special." His face twisted into something horrible and leering. "But you're no more special than that dragonfly I crushed in Utah. I'll crush you just the same."

Though I'd been 99% sure that Vagasso had killed my parents, hearing him confirm it—no matter what help he may have had from Dearborn—solidified my resolve that only one of us would walk away from this. It was freeing in a twisted, fatalistic way. I had no reason to hold back.

"Every dragon in history has been a dumb beast," Vagasso went on as his tail snapped at me. My body, already pulsing with stings, was burning up inside, though not from my own dragon nature. Venom was trying to destroy me from the inside. I roared my fury at this, expressing my determination not to succumb. But there was no denying the truth: I was dying.

"Always burn, burn, burn—never smart enough to do more. You're no better than a cheap, plastic lighter, Anne. And just like a lighter, you're a tool to use and discard. Just like your ancestors were."

I looped through the air, my heart pounding fitfully, unhealthily. My wings strained to keep me aloft. Fire churned in my chest, but what good was it? What more could I burn?

"If you surrender to me," Vagasso called up to me, "I might allow you to live as my pet. Better to be a pet in Hell than…just plain dead."