Authors: Unknown
Chapter Fifteen
Half an hour later, Z rolled onto her back and stared at the sun high above. Laying down on the roof of a building when you had a football in your belly was certainly not an easy feat.
“Are you OK?” Sam asked from behind her binoculars.
“Yeah,” Z lied. “I just wish this whole pregnancy thing were faster.”
Sam lowered her binoculars and chuckled. “Faster? You dragons only have to deal with ten weeks; us humans have to cope with nine whole months of that.”
Z exhaled a long breath. Sam was right, she should stop moaning, but at that precise moment, thinking about others’ greater suffering wasn’t helping her endure this stakeout. She checked her watch again. It had only been 10 minutes.
“Z,” Sam said in warning. “I’ve got movement.”
“Finally!” Z whispered, turning back on her belly.
A dark sedan entered the small alleyway below and stopped in front of a narrow door. One might have thought that it was just the back exit of a rundown restaurant or something, but they knew better. That nondescript door was the main entrance to the famous underground fighting club, The Dungeon.
“And the eagle has landed,” Sam joked, pointing at the chubby man stepping out of the car below.
Z turned her palm device on. Beams of blue light popped up forming a virtual screen. She punched a couple of buttons and an image appeared. “Yep, the description matches. He’s our bookie.”
“So, let’s go and say hello, shall we?” Sam suggested with a wink.
They waited for the bookie to disappear into the club then climbed down from the roof using the exposed conduits.
Sam crossed the alleyway and tried the door. “Locked.”
“Not for long,” Z replied. She placed her hand just above the doorknob and let her dragon emerge. She felt her eyes burn bright yellow as a wave of heat oozed out of her stretched palm and hit the lock. It melted almost immediately. Z pulled the door open as easily as picking carrots. “After you,” she whispered to Sam.
Her friend pulled her gun up and sneaked inside, Z followed suit. From Joel’s blueprints, the entry hallway led to an open floor, which housed the famous fighting cage, and on the opposite end, they should find a door, which would lead to the admin offices.
Z leaned against the burnt wall and listened for noises. Sam mirrored her movements.
Drawers being opened and closed, someone sniffling, rasping of metal on concrete.
She pulled a small disk out of her pocket, then flipped it open. The round mirror reflected her image, as she unfolded the connecting stick. She loved new technology, but there was nothing like good old-fashioned spy gadgets. She lifted the long handle and positioned at the end of the corridor. The image of the bookie dragging a heavy metal container out of the destroyed office reflected on its surface.
Z nodded to Sam, a silent indication for them to advance. She had promised Tardieh that she wouldn’t engage with the enemy, if he were not alone, and by the looks of things, he was. So, she wasn’t breaking any promises, right?
“Hello, there,” she said, stepping out of hiding.
The bookie jumped up, squealing out loud. “We’re closed, you can’t be here,” he barked after recovering from the shock. Then, his eyes spotted their guns. “What do you want? I’ve got nothing left for you to rob, can’t you see?” he shouted hysterically. “It’s all gone, gone!”
O-kay then
. And Z thought
she
was hormonal.
“We don’t want your earnings, bookie,” Z declared calmly. “We want information.”
At her words, the bookie paused in alarm. His pitiful demeanor changed, like a dog on full alert. “I don’t know nothing.”
Z lifted her eyebrows in surprise, and glanced at Sam. So Mr. Chubby Pants here had been approached by someone else already, huh?
“We’re looking for one of the fighters who were in the cage when the bomb went off,” Sam declared. “Her body hasn’t been found, so someone must have pulled her out of the rubble.”
“Are you deaf? I said I don’t know nothing,” Chubbers repeated.
“But your security cameras must have recorded something,” Z suggested. She took a few steps forward. The bookie stiffened. “I heard your cameras are of the latest warfare technology, what did they say again, Sam?”
“That they are like mini black boxes,” Sam replied, playing the game.
“Yes, that’s it. Word on the street says that not even dragon fire can destroy them.”
“That’s insane,” the bookie snorted nervously. A trickle of sweat rolled down his temple. “Everyone knows dragon fire melts anything.”
The corner of Z’s lips lifted in a mischievous smile. Her eyes flashed bright golden. “I know,” she drawled.
The bookie took the hint. His eyes widened in alarm, then he started shaking uncontrollably.
Z stepped back, as a massive limp grew out of nowhere on Chubbers’ back.
What in Hiad?
His limbs elongated; his nails grew into sharp claws. His skin turned slimy green with scales. In less than a few moments, the short, chubby bookie turned into a seven-foot deamon. Crap.
A mighty roar reverberated in the room. Z had to cover her face when the monster’s putrid breath gusted out.
“Z, stand behind me!” Sam shouted, stepping in front of her, protectively. She discharged three bullets on the beast’s chest. It didn’t even flinch. The bullets bounced off its slimy scales as if his reptile coat were armor.
Crap, crap, crap.
The deamon let out another putrid roar and brandished his sharp claws at them.
“Sam, be careful!” Z warned but it was too late.
A heavy paw connected to Sam’s arm, lifting her off the ground. She landed on her arse a few feet back.
“Sam!” Z cried out.
But her worry was unfounded. Her friend lifted herself on her elbows and shook her head. “I’m alright.”
A whoosh reached Z’s ears just before the beast’s attack connected. She jumped sideways, missing the sharp claws intended to her head. The heavy deamon was getting angrier. Being the bookie of a fighting club, he was probably trained in the art too. It lunged at her as if they were in a football match, with a speed she wasn’t expecting. Its long arms wrapped around her waist, shoving her backwards. The air was rushed out of her lungs when she crashed on the floor, with the beast on top of her.
One of its slimy knees connected to her protruded belly.
Z saw red. The baby.
She would have spared his miserable life before, but not if he hurt her baby. Raw, uncontrollable rage pumped through her veins, fueling her muscles. She placed both hands on the deamon’s chest and pushed. It went flying up, off her. Before the S.O.B. even crashed on the soot-covered floor, Z ran up and let out her fire whip through her fingers. The rope of flames thrashed against the beast’s face, making it cringe in pain.
Oh, yeah, now you’ll see who’s boss, prick.
With a flick of her fingers, the flames wrapped around its hands and legs, trapping them on his back like a hog on a spit.
Probably triggered by panic, the deamon shrunk back into its human form. She then lifted the bastard up and prepared to show him the true power of dragon’s fire.
“Z! We need him alive!”
Sam’s shout stopped her mid-breath.
“Maybe he knows where Yara is.”
Damn it, Sam was right. No matter how much she wanted to burn the bastard to ashes, they needed him alive and talking. She swallowed hard, forcing her limbs to calm down, and retracted her blazing rope. Chubbers fell heavily on the floor.
Playing with her lash just for effect, she strolled forward and crouched beside him. “Where are your security cameras?”
The bookie’s Adam’s apple worked up and down, but he didn’t say a word.
Z cracked her whip just above the rat’s ears. He squealed like a girl, as sparkles flew by.
“I’m not going to ask you again, bookie,” she snarled. “Where are they?”
“In the chest, in the chest!” he croaked out, cringing away.
Sam ran to the abandoned trunk in the middle of the club and opened it. “Yep, we’ve got them.”
Z helped Sam pull out the devices and lay them on the floor. She didn’t even have to voice out her command to the bookie. One look and he sprinted forward, turning them on. Ten in-built screens flickered alive and footage of the tragic explosion appeared, from several angles.
By Apa Dobrý, it had been close. Yara’s body had been blown over the fence with the force of the blast. The footage went blank for a moment then appeared again. Surviving patrons crawled over corpses, desperately trying to reach the exit. The grey soot that saturated the air, made it hard to distinguish anyone in the havoc.
“There,” Z exclaimed when Yara’s unconscious body appeared.
Sam dropped the one she was checking and ran to Z’s side. “Mighty Soartas!” she exclaimed when the shadow of a hulking man emerged from the ruble, lifted Yara up in his arms and ran out the door.
“Who’s that man?” Z asked, turning the screen toward the bookie.
After hesitating for just a second, he blurted the answer out. “It’s Rafe, our champion, he’s a werewolf.”
Sonofabitch.
At that precise moment, Z’s cellphone rang in her pocket. She picked it up and pushed the answer button. “Tardieh, I know who took her.”
“No, it’s not Tardieh,” a female whispered on the other end of the line. “It’s me, Yara.”
Mighty Soartas!
Chapter Sixteen
“I’m fine,” Yara said quickly noticing the stress in Z’s voice.
“Is it Yara?” she heard Sam yelp on the other end of the line. “Put her on speaker, put her on speaker!”
“Yara, where are you?” Z asked.
“We’re coming to get you!” Sam added.
Yara paused and chewed on her lower lip. She had expected a rush of relief to sweep over her with the confirmation that salvation was on its way, but it never came. Instead, a strange knot of uncertainty churned in her chest.
After she fled from Rafe’s house, she shifted into her panther and ran as fast as she could. It didn’t take her long to find the milk factory. “Perfect”, she’d thought. She shifted back into her human form and put on Rafe’s shirt, which she had carried between her teeth. She tiptoed around the main building, looking for a way in. Being in the middle of the day, the place would obviously be spurting werewolves. After a few attempts, Yara had managed to open one of the side windows and climb in. It looked like a breakout area, furnished with couches, a vending machine and a long table. She ducked behind a large industrial fridge when her acute ears picked up footsteps coming her way. A moment later, a heavy woman smelling like butter walked in.
“There’s ice cola and orange fizz,” she shouted out, in front of the vending machine. “Which one do you want?”
“Orange fizz,” someone replied from somewhere else in the building.
The woman picked up two cans of an orange-looking soda then left. Yara sneaked out after her and went to the opposite direction. After snooping around for a few minutes, she found an empty office and ducked inside.
There was a desk with a bunch of papers and a phone.
Thank you, Apa Dobrý
. Yara hadn’t wasted any second longer. She cleared the phone from under the piles of unpaid bills and dialed Z’s number.
But now that she heard her friend’s voices and her heart settled, she wasn’t sure it had been the best decision.
“Where are you?” Z asked again on the line.
“I’m in the country side,” Yara replied trying to keep her voice down, “I don’t know the name of this area …” she realized. “Hang on.” She picked up one of the papers that looked like a bank statement and read the address out loud. “I think I’m in Long Tail, Syracuse."
“As in Long Tail’s wolf pack?”
“Yeah.”
“Shit!” Sam swore.
Movement outside the window caught Yara’s attention. She turned and spotted Rafe running like a mad dog out of the meadow. He wore only a pair of jeans. His bare chest was heaving, up and down, a clear sign of distress.
She ducked low, away from view. Her heart quickened. Her hands started shaking.
“Yara? Yara? Are you there?” she heard her friends shout in the receiver.
“Yeah, I’m still here,” she whispered to the phone, and carefully poked her head up again.
Rafe was now walking out of a building down the road, talking to someone. He looked really worried, making gestures as if describing her. The other guy shook his head, probably saying he hadn’t seen her around. Rafe cursed then ran his hand through his wild hair.
Yara’s heart sunk at the sight.
But why, you stupid piece of muscle? He’s keeping me captive, he’s lied to you for Hiad’s sake!
She swallowed dry and let out a long sigh. Leaving here would mean never seeing Rafe again, and that hurt more than she cared to admit.
“Are you in a village or on the hills?” Sam’s voice brought Yara’s attention back to the conversation.
“Describe us where you are. We’re coming to get you,” Z stated.
“No!” Yara exclaimed in hushed tones.
“What do you mean ‘no’?”
“Look, I’m fine. I got hurt but I’m OK now.”
“So, what’s the hold up? We’ll be there in a few hours,” Z added.
“Thanks, Z, but I think …” Yara took a long breath and chewed on her lip. Was she really going to do this? To give Rafe another chance? She closed her eyes and finished the sentence. “I know I don’t make much sense, but I need to stay.”
“WHAT?” Z shouted on the other end of the line.
Yara stiffened in surprise. Wow, she’d probably have to decrease the dose of her potions when she got back.
“It’s too dangerous for you to stay,” Sam said.
“We still don’t know who planned the attack on you at the club,” Z added, sounding slightly more contained. “You may be healed but you might still be in danger.”
They were right. This was crazy, completely insane of her to want to stay here. She glanced out of the window again. Rafe had disappeared down the street, probably toward the city. She let out a sigh. “I can’t explain this, but I really need one more day.”
It took her a bit to convince her friends not to come get her, but in the end Z and Sam accepted her decision and trusted her judgment – maybe more than Yara did herself.
She hung up the phone and slumped on the chair behind the desk. She just hoped she was doing the right thing. A name written on one of the several pieces of paper scattered on the table caught her attention. She picked it up and scanned it. It was a handwritten list, as if on a ledger. Rafe’s name was cited several times with large sums of money against it. What was this? Did he owe money to his pack? She turned the paper around and found that the list continued but instead of Rafe’s, names of a few banks were catalogued. She put the list aside and started checking the other files on the desk. One of them fell on the floor, and Yara bent down to pick it up. The sound of the door bursting open froze her in place. Second later, a heavy hand grabbed her by the neck, stilling her in place even before she could think of an escape.
“Who the fuck are you?” a man snarled from above.
Oh, crap.