Dragon Fixation (Onyx Dragons Book 1) Page 13

  “Why should I listen to you? You are nothing but a killer of women and children, the old and feeble. They all succumbed to you!”

  Thorne snarled in anger and summoned his own power. Liquid flowed down his forearms, black and thick like tar. It rolled out of his skin like blood from his veins, coalescing between his hands into thick dripping ropes. The ground beneath him hissed and stones popped as droplets of acid fell to the ground.

  “Don’t make me do this, Corde!” he warned. “I promise you, it’s not what you think.”

  But Corde wasn’t there. His rational, thinking side had been overpowered by hundreds of years’ worth of grief and murderous rage that he’d kept bottled up. Now he was nothing but a shell of his former self, intent on avenging his own guilt over the situation. Thorne knew there was nothing he could do save one thing.

  Win.

  If he could overpower Corde, and perhaps hit him in the head hard enough, he could knock some sense back into him.

  “Get Callan and Torran down here!” he hollered at Colonel Mara.

  “What do you think I am, an idiot? That was the first thing I did!” she snapped. “They’re coming, but until then, I think you’re on your own!”

  “Perfect,” he muttered as Corde came at him. “Last warning, Corde!”

  The red dragon howled in fury and swept in at him. Thorne leapt high into the air over the swinging blade, whipping his acid creation over his head and then flinging it down at the wild dragon shifter.

  The ropes spread wide, wrapped and twined together, the net opening as it settled down over Corde. He winced as it started to burn at his skin, and the shriek of pain that rattled the cavern was painful to his ears. The black ropes of thick acid ate away at the tough shifter’s skin, but it wasn’t designed to kill. Only hold him in place.

  Thorne landed in a roll, coming to his feet at the same moment that fire erupted from Corde’s hands, burning away at his prison until he was freed. The thickly muscled red dragon came to his feet, balls of flame held carefully in each hand.

  “I’m going to enjoy this,” Corde said, hollow-voiced, stepping forward. His eyes were totally inhuman now, flames having eclipsed the last shreds of steel gray.

  He tossed a brightly burning ball of yellow-orange fire at Thorne and then came at him with his fists. Thorne ducked aside, came to his feet, and pelted Corde’s back with balls of acid that spread apart on impact, burning clothing and skin alike. Corde was covered in a patchwork of crisscrossed lines from the net, pink skin showing where it had eaten away at him. Now the acid balls added to the agony.

  Corde sneered as he turned, and a beam of fire as thick around as his wrist came flashing across the cavern. Thorne barely had time to react, but it wasn’t the first time he’d fought a red dragon. He knew their tricks.

  Thrusting both hands forward, fingers extended and palms inward, he called upon his own powers. Once more acid flowed down his forearms. It reached his fingers and pooled there until it jumped from one hand to the other. A black barrier of acid formed between his hands in the blink of an eye, and it caught the onrushing fire, the liquid nature of it dousing the flames as soon as they hit.

  Thorne was forced to continue pouring more acid in as the heat evaporated some, but though the barrier stretched toward him like dough, it never broke. Corde saw his attack was wasted and another howl of anger filled the cavern as he came at Thorne once more, disdaining power this time and going for straight-up brute force.

  Ducking out of the way of the wild haymaker, he rose up and slammed a fist into Corde’s cheek, his superior speed powering him through. If Corde connected again, it would hurt, but—

  Corde’s backhand caught him completely unawares, rocking his head back and pitching him across the floor. His shoulder scraped against solid rock, leaving his shirt and skin behind as he bled freely from the wound until it could clot.

  “Ow,” he muttered, blinking away stars.

  Getting to his feet, he looked around as Corde advanced. The portal was in front of him, solid wall twenty feet behind him and ten feet away on his left. He was backed into a corner. There weren’t many options for avoiding the fiery shifter, and a straight-up fight was not something he was overly interested in. Looking up for help, a wild solution came to him.

  “Corde, come on. Let us talk. This isn’t what you think it is!”

  “YOU KILLED MY FAMILY!” he shrieked and came on hard.

  “Fine.”

  Thorne raised both hands and acid shot into the air, hitting the ceiling—and the stalactite directly above him. The giant downward-shaped cone of rock shivered as the acid ate away at its upper barriers, and then with a great groaning noise it broke free and plummeted toward the two shifters.

  Corde looked up, and for a brief moment sanity re-entered his eyes. He saw the oncoming mass of rock, and knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid it. Anger blazed in that knowledge and he stabbed both hands at Thorne, unleashing a double-barreled blast of fire.

  Thorne, who was busy backing away, didn’t have time to defend against it. The inferno washed over him and tossed him backward like a ragdoll. He hit the rock wall behind him and plunged straight into it, bouncing along a narrow passageway for nearly ten feet before finally coming to a rest.

  In front of him the massive stalactite slammed into the ground two feet away from Corde, burying the rampaging shifter in tons of rock and debris. A dust cloud swept over the room and the tunnel, forcing Thorne to close his eyes and throw up an arm to block the debris cloud.

  As it settled, the only noise Thorne heard was the sound of someone trying to extricate themselves from under some rock. It wasn’t surprising that Corde would already be trying to do that. His dragonbone armor should have prevented any truly serious damage.

  His brain was slightly addled though. Thorne tried to puzzle out the one thing he couldn’t understand.

  Why were the sounds coming from behind him?

  Chapter Twenty

  Thorne

  Rubbing dust and dirt from his eyes, he sat up and turned around just in time to see a black shape pull itself out from under a large rock chunk and throw itself up and over him, heading for the exit of the tunnel within which he’d ended up.

  Thorne might have been addled, but he would recognize that shape anywhere.

  “OUTSIDER!” he bellowed, reaching up and grabbing one of its lower appendages.

  The matte-black armored creature twisted as he did, kicking his arm away. It landed on its side and bounced to its feet.

  Outside the tunnel though, several soldiers that had been running for the bank of tubes along the back wall had stopped, snatched up weapons, and placed themselves between the creature and the portal.

  “SHOOT IT!” Thorne bellowed. The bullets wouldn’t harm him; his dragonbone could take it. But they needed to buy as much time as possible.

  The two soldiers opened fire, but the creature just walked forward silently through the hail of bullets, and before Thorne could do anything to stop it, reached out and snatched the life from both of them.

  Thorne just stared as the two bodies tumbled lifelessly to the ground. He swallowed, stunned. It was his fault. He’d been too slow to act, and the two of them had paid the price because of him. Slumping back to the ground as the Outsider humped and rippled its way across the floor toward the portal, the surface crackling and bursting with energy, he felt the blackness of guilt wash over him like a tidal wave, pulling him down into its welcoming abyss.

  They were dead, and it was all his fault. Just like with Corde’s village.

  “Thorne!” someone shouted from outside the tunnel. “You have to stop it! You can’t let it go back through the portal!”

  The panicked call broke through to him. He recognized the voice. It was Carla. She was calling for him. His mate needed him.

  And Thorne was going to be there.

  Lunging to his feet, he whipped his hands around his head and tossed a thick net of acid at the outsider. The creatu
re went down, emitting a shriek that was so high-pitched it barely registered to even his enhanced senses. It was enough, however, and he clamped his hands over his ears before his drums burst, stumbling forward out of the tunnel.

  The portal, he noticed, was going wild with energy. It must sense the Outsider somehow. That’s why it’s acting up; it knew one of them was close.

  Ahead of him the Outsider ripped itself free of the acid net, lunging to its feet. Thorne could see that its armor was creased with burns, but otherwise it seemed none the worse for wear. It did, however, turn to look back at him. The clear black armor was featureless, and though it vaguely resembled a human with two legs and two arm-like appendages and a bulbous mass atop its head, there was no face to speak of.

  Seeing the onyx dragon shifter closing in on him, it shivered with what he could only assume was rage, and began to reform its body. One of its arms lengthened and smoothed, becoming a blade, while the other expanded outward into what he could only assume was a shield. Then it came at him in the strange ripple-hump movement that he’d seen on the videos.

  Cursing, he realized the weapon he was most familiar with was not going to be of any use to him. Dodging the first swing of the blade-arm, he formed his own weapons. Acid rolled up and around his forearms in a thick defensive layer, coating him from his elbow to his fingers. Then he extruded two blades from his palms that curled up and over the back of his hands, reaching back to nearly mid-forearm. The blades faced outward, and he crossed both arms above his head just as the Outsider swung his arm down at him.

  The arm-sword hit his acid defenses and almost immediately it started to eat through the arm. The Outsider reared back in surprise, and Thorne grinned. The harder it hit him, the harder it would drive the acid into its armor.

  Which is exactly why the Outsider smashed its shield into his side.

  Thorne went down hard. At least one, if not two of his ribs had cracked. Rolling, he got back to his feet and darted in, slashing hard as he ducked beneath the swing of its blade and tried to get around behind it.

  Across from him the pile of rubble with Corde underneath shuffled and he realized the red dragon was trying to free himself. If he could just buy enough time, the two of them could certainly take this thing down.

  The Outsider noticed it as well though, and it came at Thorne with speed that surprised him, forcing him back toward the portal. He gritted his teeth and stood his ground, battling the Outsider to a full stop. Blades cut through the air and acid hissed as it splashed against the ground and the Outsider’s armor.

  Thorne gave it his all, fighting better than he ever had before, even driving the Outsider back a step. A smile ticked his face an instant before the Outsider’s shield smashed through his defenses. He hadn’t seen the blow coming at all. His knives had risen to stop it, but the Outsider had sacrificed part of its shield, letting the edges be sliced off by his blades. The center still drove home, rocking his head back. Thorne went down in a heap.

  The black form lunged over him, raising its maimed shield high before slamming it down. Thorne tried to block it, but its strength was immense, and it simply drove his own arms back into his face.

  He tried to wrench it off him as it drew back to hit him again, but it was just too strong.

  The arm tried to come down again, but he frowned as black metal digits closed around its broken end.

  “Nobody touches my mate like that you slimy, ugly, sonofabitch,” Carla snarled as she grabbed the Outsider in her battlesuit’s arms, pivoted, and hauled the Outsider up and over her before slamming it into the ground. Then she whirled, whirring and hissing noises coming from the suit as she tossed the Outsider across the cavern, as far away from the portal as it could get.

  Thorne watched in stunned awe as she action-pumped her two arms, revealing twin barrels below each wrist, and hit the Outsider with repeated bursts of some sort of bullet while it was tumbling midair. The armor cracked under the impact, but it didn’t kill it. The Outsider hit the ground, bounced once, then slammed into the wall. A shower of rocks rained across it, but nothing impeded it.

  “Well don’t just stand there getting a hard-on, get your ass over there and beat the shit out of it!” Carla snarled, blasting the figure again as it tried to get up.

  Right. Kill it.

  Thorne lunged to his feet and darted across the cavern floor. He poured acid forth, tossing net after net onto the Outsider as it struggled to its feet. Once he got closer a literal fountain of the black liquid shot across the distance, coating the Outsider.

  It shrieked again in its unintelligible language, getting to its feet. Acid and chunks of its armor dripped to the floor, but it was still very much in the fight. Thorne didn’t hesitate. He slammed into the creature bodily, riding it to the ground as he rained blow after blow down on it.

  “Roll!” Carla commanded.

  He did just that, rolling and bringing the creature with him. Its body rocked as she blasted it from up close, hammering round after round into its weakened armor, but still it fought. Thorne rolled again to prevent it from escaping, and resumed hammering it with vicious blows of his fists.

  “Roll,” another voice commanded, this one far deeper and angrier than Carla’s.

  Again he didn’t hesitate, rolling through the acid with the shrieking, flailing Outsider in his grip. It was clearly weakened, but he still couldn’t penetrate the tough external armor—

  A fiery blade pierced it, stabbing through the back and out the front, stopping inches short of Thorne’s own chest. He stared at it wide-eyed, realizing how close he’d just come to death.

  The Outsider wailed and one of its legs took Corde in the side, sending him and his fiery blade away. As it was ripped from within purple goop poured out, coating Thorne. But he didn’t care; it no longer mattered.

  Corde had given him his way in, the mated dragon’s weapon strong enough to puncture the armor.

  The Outsider realized the same thing, and it tried to bring an arm around to tap against his chest, to drain him of his life force.

  “I don’t think so,” Carla snarled, grabbing both arms with her battlesuit’s metal hands and wrenching them behind its back. Digging in deep, she tried to slow its progress as it fought to overpower her. It was stronger than her, but not by much. The arms moved downward, but slightly.

  Thorne , his arms free, stabbed them both into the hole left from Corde’s blade. Acid rushed up his forearms as he poured it into the Outsider. A rank stench like burned excrement and seared skin mixed together with the odor of rotting flesh assaulted his nose, and while he gagged at it, he didn’t stop. The acid was eating away at the creature’s insides, and as he poured more acid inside, its struggles began to slow.

  Wary of a trap, he didn’t halt until the matte-black armor literally dissolved from the inside and covered him in a wave of acid that was no longer trapped by the form. It spashed over him and the entire nearby cavern floor, including some electric equipment he doubted Colonel Mara would be happy about.

  But fuck it, he’d killed an Outsider. Between that and the one Vanek had killed, that was two of the supposed three that had initially escaped when the portal was discovered.

  “Hell yeah,” he said wearily, the acid around him dissolving as he dismissed it, clearing the area for Carla to come to his side.

  She knelt over him, her face exposed in the suit of armor.

  “You okay?” she asked, worry lines creasing the beautiful features of her face.

  “I am,” he said, sitting up. His body ached and his ribs were definitely broken on the right side, but he would be okay. “Are you? Where’d you get that pretty outfit?”

  She snickered. “There are some ready suits over there,” she said, pointing behind her to the tubes on the wall. “It killed the soldiers who could have used them, so I commandeered one.” She looked uncomfortable. “It’s a little tight. Whoever it was doesn’t have much of a butt.”

  Thorne laughed, but a sudden glow caught his
attention. Hoping that her armor was as strong as it looked, he reached up and pushed Carla backward as hard as he could. Rolling away, he narrowly avoided the downward swing of Corde’s blade as the mighty dragon shifter came charging back in.

  “Corde, stop it!” he shouted, backing away.

  The dragon shifter stepped forward, but Carla sprinted back over and placed her hands up between the two of them.

  “THAT’S ENOUGH!” she shouted, the covers beneath her forearms sliding back as she aimed double-barreled weapons at the both of them.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Carla

  It sickened her to be aiming her weapons at Thorne, but she knew she had to appear neutral between the two, or else Corde wouldn’t believe her at all.

  Both dragons shifted uneasily, the muzzles of the barrels a mere foot or so from their faces.

  “Thorne,” she said calmly. “Would you like to explain to everyone just what’s going on. Is it true that you killed his village?”

  The nervous hiccup in her voice was more than noticeable, but she didn’t let it stop her. If Thorne truly was responsible for such a horrific crime, then he would pay. Everything in her heart told him that he wasn’t, but Corde seemed deadly certain of it.

  Her mate sighed. “I was there, yes. But I did not kill anyone,” he said emphatically.

  “LIAR!” Corde roared and made to move forward.

  Carla spun and casually backhanded the giant, the enhanced musculature of her battlesuit hitting him with force enough to send him fifteen feet in the air before he hit the ground heavily.

  “You will let him explain everything,” she snarled, turning to face Corde entirely, aiming both barrels at him. “If he is guilty, then he will pay for his crimes. But not before. Do you understand me?”

  Corde grumbled something she couldn’t hear.

  “I SAID, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?” she screamed in her best parade-ground drill-instructor voice.

  “Yes,” Corde said, getting to his feet angrily, but standing his ground.