Sword of the King (21 page)

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Authors: Megan Derr

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Sword of the King
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"I smell blood," Blaze said flatly, and brushed by him to go inside.

The entire place smelled foul. How the hell Blaze picked out blood from the rank mess, Ken didn't know and didn't want to know. "What the fuck is that smell?"

"Neglect," Blaze said flatly. He paused in front of the first door; it was made of steel bars with barely enough space to fit maybe a couple fingers between them. Blaze gestured into the room—cage, really, even if only the door had bars—and Ken stepped close to see.

What he saw made him want to throw up, made him want to cry. The dragon inside was so thin Ken could see her bones, and she was covered in her own filth, food, blood, and debris from the floor. Her eyes were glazed over, a sign of illness. Worse, the soft, barely audible crooning sound she was making was a sign of madness. She was probably a human who had not been of a high enough percentage to adjust well to the change. Anything below forty percent was a gamble, but many were forced to change anyway just as pit fodder to start training the better dragons.

Blaze made a low, rough noise and lifted his gun. Ken stepped back and covered his ears as the gun went off. Turning away, Blaze continued on down the hall. After the first few pens, Ken stopped looking—it hurt too fucking much to keep seeing the broken, battered dragons within them, and they were going to need the ammo for other things.

He was definitely going to do something about it later, though.

A familiar roar drew his attention, and Ken bolted past Blaze, following the sounds of an angry Nevada. He turned a corner, ran down another hallway—and nearly collided with a terrified looking man in a white lab coat. A white lab coat stained with blood.

Ken raised his gun. "Freeze!"

The man turned toward him, eyes wide and terrified. "Help! It's gone crazy! I don't—"

What he didn't, Ken never found out, as Nevada came launching out of the room and immediately buried his teeth in the man's throat. He was dead a moment later, and Nevada dropped the body, growl so deep that Ken's chest vibrated with it. Nev swiveled his long neck, eyes bright, burning—

He froze when he saw Ken, nostrils flaring as he caught Ken's scent. Making a sound that was partly a cry of joy, partly an awful mewl, Nev ran down the hall toward him, shifting only just before he threw himself into Ken's arms, toppling them both to the ground.

Ken held him tightly and buried his face in Nev's throat tears of relief stinging his eyes. " Are you okay, Nev?"

Nev growled softly, and slowly untangled them. "Nev okay. Head hurts, but okay. Ken okay?"

"I'll live," Ken said, even if, between his side and his head, he was in so much pain he just wanted to pass out. Ignoring the aches, pains and dizziness, he stood and tugged Nev to his feet. "Where is everyone else?"

"Where's Erie?" Blaze said, his voice breaking.

Nev rumbled soothingly at him, then turned and ran back down the hallway. He growled impatiently when they did not run after him fast enough. Going past the room he'd burst from earlier, he turned right at the end of the hall and stopped. "Heard Erie here."

"Erie!" Blaze bellowed. "Goddammit, lizard, answer me!"  He stopped, anxiously looking around, banging on every single door on the hall—then froze as smoke came billowing out of one of them and somebody screamed.

Bolting toward the door, Blaze raised his gun and fired. "Erie, get the fucking keys." A moment later, a trembling hand shoved a ring of keys through the bar. Blaze nearly dropped them, fumbling as he fought to figure out which key would work. Finally he yanked it open, then reached into the pen and pulled Erie out.

"Blaze," Erie said softly, and it was clear just by looking at him that Erie had taken the brunt of the physical abuse—probably because while he was no pushover, he was susceptible to the drugs Leo's men had used, and not as strong as Nevada. Blaze cupped his head with both hands, kissed him hard.

"You're okay, Erie. No one is going to hurt you again. Can you shift?"

Growling, Erie kissed him again and bit his lip, lapping at the blood. It seemed to be exactly what he needed, because with another soft growl he shifted to dragon form, scales already glowing scarlet and making the air around him hazy with the heat.

"Now we just need Conway and Cam," Ken said.

Blaze shook his head. "Leo would have kept them with him. There's no way he'd ever let Cam out of his sight, and he'll keep Conway to teach Rafael a lesson."

Ken grimaced. "Let's get going, then. Where was it you said we're going?"

"The Pentacle Building, that's where Leo lives and works," Blaze replied. "Let's get moving."

Erie moved forward to take the lead, his scales singing and burning everything he touched. Blaze followed a few steps behind him, leaving Ken and Nevada to cover the rear. "This place is awfully fucking empty."

Blaze sneered. "Given the state of the dragons, I'm not surprised. I know Leo doesn't see them as anything more than expensive dogs, but shit—this is fucking ridiculous. Most of these dragons can't be saved. I—" He broke off, voice rough. "I hate this shit."

Ken didn't bother replying; Blaze knew he agreed.

The trip back to the car was uneventful, and Ken marveled again that security was so lax. But no doubt all the real muscle was with Leo.

As they reached the front gates, however, Ken saw the real reason everything was so fucking quiet. At a glance, the man seemed ordinary enough:  average height, build of an athlete, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He had a small town, good boy sort of look to him. Wholesome was the word, Ken decided. He looked completely wholesome, except, of course, for the sword in his hand and the silver dragon at his side. Beside him, Blake lifted his gun and demanded, "Who the fuck are you?"

"A friend," the man said with amusement.

"Nice sword," Blaze said.

The man laughed, and smoothly returned the sword to the sheath on his back. Next to him, his dragon laughed, a chittering, clicking sound.

"I repeat," Blaze said. "Who the fuck are you?"

Ken shook his head in wonder, and reached out to push Blaze's gun down. He'd only seen the sword for a second, but he would know it by reputation anywhere. The curse carved into the blade was unmistakable
:  He who bears this sword is destined to kill his closest friend.
Only one person carried that sword. "Fuck, you're Alec le Savage."

"Guilty as charged," Alec said with a wry smile. "You must be the Ken I've heard so much about. Your father gave me a call, asked if I would come help you since he had a feeling you weren't going to stay put and wait like he ordered."

Blaze heaved a sigh and put his gun away, resting a hand on Erie's head. "You're another fucking knight."

Alec laughed. "Yes, I'm sorry. I used to live here, so I know the city—and the pits—well."

"Used to live here," Ken repeated. "Where do you live now that you got here so fast?"

"Georgia," Alec replied, then smiled. "My lover is a sorcerer. I took care of most of the warehouses, since I knew they'd bring the dragons here. Haven't been here in a long time, though. They moved the holding pens. I'm glad you found your dragons. Now, shall we head to St. George HQ?"

Blaze didn't bother to reply, just led the way out the gates and toward his car—which definitely would not hold all of them.

"I've got my own ride," Alec said. "Meet you there." He didn't wait for them to reply, just walked down the street to where an indistinct, beat-up looking red sedan was parked.

Ken got Erie and Nev settled, then slid into the passenger seat, barely getting his seatbelt on before Blaze plunged into traffic. "How the fuck have you never gotten a traffic ticket?"

"Talent," Blaze replied. They pulled up in front of a tall looking building that was, Ken realized after staring at it for a moment, shaped like a star. Ken was dumbfounded—what was wrong with a plain old square shape? Shaking his head, Ken clambered out. The dragons shifted back to their dragon forms as soon as they climbed out of the car.

All around them, people stared and scattered; Ken thought he even heard a couple of them scream. Ignoring all of it, he walked with Blaze and their dragons into the Pentacle Building.

They were met with guards, but the three dragons quickly took care of them. Ken left them to it, ignoring the screams and the growing panic. In a city ruled by a syndicate no normals would be in the area and abnormals would know to get the fuck out of the way. He slammed the button for the elevator, and waited impatiently, Alec and Blaze on either side of him.

The elevator chimed and opened just as the dragons rejoined them. They piled inside as two more elevators opened to reveal more dragons and masters. Ken saw a gun, lifted his own and fired a shot. He saw the man drop, his blood smearing across the lobby floor as the elevator doors closed and they began their ride to the top.

"Rick wasn't kidding; you have no taste for subtlety."

"Because a man who carries a sword operates on subtlety."

Alec laughed. Blake seemed content to ignore them both, staring off into space, clearly lost in thought—probably about who to shoot first and how much they should suffer. Ken might be the more impulsive between them, but Blaze was by far the more deadly. Ken had spent one very long, very brutal year in the pits. Blaze had never known anything else.

The elevator dinged and Blaze raised his arm, firing rapidly before the doors even finished opening. When Ken stepped out a moment later, ears ringing from the gunshots, he saw two dead men and one who would be shortly. Blaze pushed past him and kept going, firing more shots as he walked down the hall.

More men came out of the double doors at the very end, and Ken started firing shots of his own, tossing one gun away when it ran out of bullets and pulling out his second. He needn't have bothered; by the time he'd done so, Erie and Nev had taken over the duty of clearing the way.

Dragons came slinking out a moment later, their black scales shimmering with dark reds and blues and greens. Triple blacks, Ken realized.

"Blade, kill," Alec commanded, his voice soft, but laced with steel. Blade growled and launched himself at the dragons, moving with sinuous grace. Joining the fray with Erie and Nev, he wasted no time in going in for the kills he'd been ordered to make.

The dragons roared, screamed, and whimpered. Fire, ice and wind filled the hallway, forcing Ken and the others to hug the walls to avoid being in the line of fire. Erie snarled as one of the dragons clamped down on his leg, his tail flashing and fire bursting from him. The black dragon held fast, countering the fire with ice, but in the next moment Nev was on it, biting the back of its neck. Shaking loose, Erie lunged for the dragon's soft throat and tore it out, jaws dripping blood as he growled and moved on to his next victim.

It didn't take long; the blacks were just no match for two knight dragons and the fiercest flame Ken had ever seen. Blaze moved forward when Erie growled an all-clear, and headed toward the double doors that had been reduced to chunks and splinters.

Ken hastened to catch up to him, Alec close on his heels with his sword drawn, as they strode into Leo's office. He looked around and felt both relieved when he saw that Rafael and Amr were still alive, and sick with rage that they had been beat to fucking hell and back. Amr, he saw, had been placed inside a spell circle. Huh. Maybe Leo wasn't completely stupid.

Ken looked around the room for a moment before he saw Conway passed out by the windows, in human form, and in even worse condition than Rafael and Amr.

Leo stood in front of his desk glaring at them, flanked by four men—one of them a dragon. "I thought you said they were dead," he snapped, and the man on his immediate right blanched.

"Thought they were, Boss."

"You obviously are a fucking idiot," Leo said, eyes still on the group.

Blaze raised his gun; Ken did the same, but Leo only smirked. "If you kill me, they all die."

"What do you mean—" Ken's question was drowned out as Blaze fired, shooting Leo in the center of his chest. He fell, and Blaze strode forward to shoot him again in the head. The men who had been flanking Leo scattered like ants.

Ken twitched his fingers at Nev. He growled and chased after them, Erie at his side. Leaving them to it, Ken rounded on Blaze. "What the fuck man? Last I checked, I was the crazy one. When did you become the hothead? How the fuck did you know he was bluffing? What if he hadn't been?"

"He was," Blaze said flatly. "You get to know the look of someone on a bluff when you do this shit long enough. All the cards he had to play are dead in the hallway. He's dead the same reason Marlowe died:  Arrogance. As to being hotheaded ... they fucked with the dragons. Fuck them." He turned away, strode over to Rafael and knelt to check him over.

Conceding the point, Ken went to check on Amr. Kneeling by the edge of the spell circle, he reached out hesitantly—and was not at all surprised when he got zapped. Swearing, he sucked on his stinging fingers and looked at Amr to try and gauge the depth of his wounds—and froze as he caught those dragon-amber eyes staring at him. They were hazed with pain, but did not lack lucidity. Ken scowled. "So I see someone stole the pleasure of beating you from me."

Amr's lips twitched, and Ken refused to be pleased by that, because he didn't ever want 'Amr' and 'pleased' to be in the same thought. "Can you break the circle?" Amr asked, voice raspy and weak. His eye slid shut again, as though just speaking had exhausted whatever energy he had.

"I can," Alec said from behind Ken. He lowered his sword—Ken expected resistance, but whatever had allowed the spell circle to repel him had no effect on the sword. Touching the intricate circle of chalked runes, Alec drew his sword across them, and with a pulse of energy the spell circle broke.

Ken surged forward to examine Amr's wounds. "You look like shit."

"Fuck you," Amr said, and passed out.

Snickering, Ken checked his injuries over again and determined that while Amr was probably going to be even more of a whiny bitch for the next forever, he'd have to be extremely talented to die of his wounds.

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