Dragon King's Prize Read online

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2016 Angelique Voisen

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-066-6

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To my readers, I hope you enjoy Rashik and Leon’s story. To Evernight, for giving this book a home.

  DRAGON KING’S PRIZE

  Angelique Voisen

  Copyright © 2016

  Chapter One

  From the ground level, the Sharpe Towers looked like shards of black glass protruding from the ground. The two buildings could be twins, except the smaller one lacked a roof. Craning his neck, Leon looked up, ignoring the insistent tug from his mother.

  Even at fifty floors down, Leon could see the charred steel and twisted metal parts crowning the head of Tower A. Five naked beams used to support the roof—Leon counted. They looked like fingers, beseeching whoever was up there for help.

  A shiver crept down his spine. The People Before had called these “skyscrapers”. After floods had destroyed their last home, their tribe had made the decision to move out of the Creakfall woods and into the urban wreckage left behind by their ancestors.

  Leon’s younger brother Bailey never liked taking shelter in them. Half of their group shared the same sentiment. None of the trees in Creakfall grew as tall as these skyscrapers. Their old home didn’t have this many nooks and crannies to hide in either.

  He was the opposite. Leon loved everything about the old city, from the cracked gravel paths to these steel and glass behemoths. The question lingered, though. What were they doing here? His father had picked Sharpe Tower for no reason.

  “Leon, hurry up. The rains are coming, and Snyder’s group is inside,” his mother demanded.

  Snyder was another leader of the Humans Only group, just like his father. What was going on?

  “Leave the brat, Marie.”

  “But, Daniel, if he gets sick again—”

  “No buts, woman.”

  Dragging his attention away from the towers, Leon glared at his father. As a skinny eighteen-year-old who preferred old books to blades and guns, that was the best he could do.

  Daniel Marsh snorted as if that explained everything. Daniel always insisted Leon and his two brothers call him that—Daniel or Marsh, never “father” or “dad”.

  “Is that all you can do, boy?”

  Daniel marched up to Leon, a menacing six-foot-five scarred giant with a sneer. Fisting his shirt, Daniel yanked him close. Leon’s heart thudded against his chest. He nearly emptied his bladder, but he couldn’t give his father that satisfaction. Could his father smell his fear?

  That was bullshit. Only shifters were capable of doing that.

  “Glare all you want, runt. When the real monsters come out at night, remember they go for the fucking weaklings first.” Daniel leaned in close, so the others wouldn’t overhear. “I know about your little fling with Brandon, you unnatural and useless piece of shit.”

  Leon swallowed, but he met Daniel’s gaze with his own, letting the old man see he wasn’t about to back down. Why give a shit about his sexuality anyway? That kind of medieval thinking had no place here. The only reason Daniel and the other Humans Only Resistance leaders enforced the no same gender relationships rule was simple. They wanted to repopulate the dead earth.

  Half a century had passed since humanity lost the Paranormal Wars and civilization collapsed. Both species ought to merely stop killing each other. Too bad no one seemed interested in hearing his opinions.

  “Is that why you exiled him?” Leon asked.

  No wonder his father sent away a valuable fighter from the group. Leon wasn’t worried about Brandon. Unlike Leon, Brandon possessed the skills to survive in the wild. Leon had thought he meant something more to Brandon. The bitter part of him hoped Brandon would have at least taken him along, or at the very least, said his farewells.

  “Daniel, please,” his mother whispered.

  She looked at the others, frantic. Most of them pretended to be busy. Others looked away. When Leon was fifteen, his father had beaten the shit out of him for not being able to finish his first paranormal hunt. Leon had let the frightened tabby shifter go instead of ending his life.

  No one intervened then; no would do so now.

  Most people feared his father. Bailey called him stupid for constantly defying Daniel.

  In the paranormal community, they uttered Daniel’s name like a curse.

  They called Daniel Marsh a number of names, too—dragon-slayer, demon-killer, murderer, and all-around bastard.

  Daniel even looked the part of humanity’s last hero, complete with billowing black leather duster coat complete with a sword strapped on his back. Daniel had it made out of the bone of the first dragon he killed, like most magical blades.

  As the middle child, Leon would never inherit the blade. Good. Let Tyree wield that monstrous thing. Leon had never been cut out for fighting anyway, much to the disappointment of his father. Wait, no. That wasn’t right. His father expected him to fail anyway.

  “You’re not worth my time.” Daniel released him, disappearing into the double doors of tower A. The rest followed, with the exception of his mother.

  The first fat droplet of water hit his head. Placing his heavy pack down, Leon stuck out his tongue, tasting the rain. Storm clouds gathered above them, angry and black. Lightning streaked through the space between towers A and B.

  “Why do you do that? Insist on making him mad?”

  Daniel looked at his mother. The exact opposite of his father, she looked tiny against the backdrop of the Sharpe towers. At least she could pull a decent punch, even wield a shotgun with accuracy far better than Leon. Studying her closely now, Leon could make out the grays in her braided blonde hair.

  She always protected him, defended him against his father’s rages. When his father used his fists to teach Leon a lesson, Daniel made his uncles hold her back. Seeing the tears filling her eyes hurt a lot worse than the constant barrage of his father’s blows.

  “Someone should,” Leon said.

  She approached him, not caring about the rain. He let her pull him into a tight hug. She was the reason why he stayed in the group and endured his father’s rages. He always knew his mother’s one real weakness was Daniel Marsh. Leon once asked her why she would be content spending the rest of her life with a man like his father.

  I love him, she had said.

  It still confounded Leon as to why. While Daniel would hurl the occasional verbal abuse at her, his father never took advantage of her physically. That was her reason, which didn’t seem to mean all that much.

  “Let’s join the others,” she suggested.

  They entered the tall doors of the building. Most of the glass walls had been reduced to tiny shards on the floor. They avoided most of these and climbed the stairs. In some of the old buildings, the mechanical boxes worked, generated by strange power sources. Leon never trusted them, terrified the boxes would run out of power and he would plunge into his death.

  Reaching the halfway point, Leon started to pant. What was the point of building physical stamina when he usually stayed back with the women and young children when the able-bodied members of the group went
on a hunt?

  The sign on the stairwell read they were on the twentieth floor. His mother mentioned their group was meeting Snyder’s tribe on the top floor.

  “The roof of the building’s gone. Any reason why there?” he asked, out of breath.

  His mother didn’t even appear to break a sweat.

  “You know your father doesn’t tell me all the details.”

  Leon snorted. Of course, the paranoid bastard only shared his plans with his closest generals and best warriors.

  It turned out most of the group had made camp on the forty-ninth floor. Only the best fighters of the group were allowed at that meeting. His mother joined his brother Bailey and began setting up their accommodations for the night. Leon walked to the edge of the floor, making his way past fallen rotting furniture—scattered relics of the time before the world ended.

  The floor-to-ceiling glass was surprisingly mostly intact on this floor. Leaning his forehead against the glass, Leon peered outward. The rain washed away most of the dust and dirt, helping him see the murky outline of the city.

  The basic rule of survival stated to go to high ground. This gave them an advantage over any incoming enemies. At the same time, staying here trapped them like rats.

  “Killer view, huh?”

  The remark came from James, one of the few young men in the tribe Leon got along with. James wore his signature shotgun slung over his shoulder. While a horrible hand-to-hand fighter, James was an excellent shot. In Leon’s opinion, having one out of two essential survival skills wasn’t all that bad.

  “Why aren’t you up there with the rest of the elite?”

  James shrugged. “You know why.”

  Leon’s stomach churned. He knew. “Daniel still doesn’t trust you because you’re friends with his failure of a son?”

  “Hey, think of it as a good thing. Let the other bastards work their asses off, scurrying for the great and mighty Daniel Marsh’s favor.”

  Leon knew James long enough to know his friend was being sarcastic. “Do you know why we’re here?”

  “It’s not hard to guess. Why does the group head to weird locations?”

  “For a hunt, but there’s no prey here.”

  James chuckled. “No land-based monsters maybe.”

  A chill went down his spine as the realization dawned on Leon. Nowhere in the world was safe, he knew that—land, water, and air included. Few supernaturals held the title of kings of the skies, though.

  “You’re kidding. We’re hunting a dragon shifter?” Leon whispered.

  Idiotic bastards. True, the tribe had great success hunting down lone shifters one-by-one, but rumors were greatly exaggerated. Small groups they passed by still spoke reverently of Daniel and his team and how they eradicated an entire werewolf pack a few years.

  In reality, their group had offered their services in exchange for goods and basic necessities. Daniel and the others never told the real story. For instance, an unknown plague had killed off most of that particular werewolf pack. What Daniel and his team did was clearing out the clutter. And that dragon bone sword Daniel was so proud of?

  Leon knew it had taken fifty men to kill that one dragon shifter. How many lived through that ordeal?

  One.

  “Gods,” he muttered.

  Sensible folks hid from those beasts, but he supposed he should know better. How many times did Daniel place emphasis on their tribe code? Only the strong survived. Even the women in the group were selectively picked by Daniel’s warriors to breed strong fighters. The younger kids started being trained to kill the moment they could hold a blade or gun.

  Leon was only tolerated because he carried the same blood as the great Daniel Marsh. His paternity was still a debate among the group, though.

  “They’re hunting a dragon, not us,” James corrected. “Look, Leon. As long as we take cover and let them do all the work, we’ll be fine. Besides, you have me don’t you?”

  Leon glanced at the shotgun with skepticism. “The last time I counted, we’re running out of ammo.”

  The last bullet factory they passed had been what? A month, maybe two ago, and while silver bullets might kill a normal shifter, it would only annoy a dragon. The only way to effectively kill one was using their own weakness against them—in this case, his father’s sword.

  “This is a suicidal mission.”

  James put a hand to his lips. “Not so loud.”

  Nodding curtly made James drop his hand. Leon finally asked the most important question. “Why? It can’t be because of bragging rights.”

  “Snyder wants a dragon blade, too. In exchange for our group helping them slay one, he’s trading us ammo.”

  Of course, the two hunting groups wanted the bragging rights. It pissed the hell out of him, but what could he do? Leon took a good look around the room. Women and kids huddled together. Some clutched at weapons, but those would do shit to a being capable of transforming into a dragon. Oh, and breathe fire. Had Leon forgotten to mention that?

  In a way, Snyder and his father were no different from the shifters who saw humans as prey.

  Now it was time for another important question. “James, how are they going to lure a dragon to us?”

  “Come on, let’s see what we can do to help,” James suggested.

  The fact his friend avoided the question told him as much. Whatever underhanded tactics Snyder and his father would employ, Leon wouldn’t approve of it. Leon dragged his feet after James, silently making an assessment of the space. Never mind his father’s pride. All he needed to worry about was the rest of the group surviving the night.

  Chapter Two

  Leon heard it in his sleep—the piteous sound of a dying animal. Living with a hunting company, he ought to get used to that, but this one sounded painfully human. He bolted up from the pile of blankets he shared with Bailey and his mom. Some tribe members remained awake, alert. Judging by their tense poses and their hands not leaving their weapons, they heard it, too.

  Leave it alone and let the others deal with the problem, James had suggested. After the debacle with his father earlier, Leon knew keeping his head down would improve his chances of survival.

  There was one thing his father should know about him by now. Leon didn’t leave things alone. He couldn’t. The horrible high-pitched sound came from upstairs again. Mouth dry, Leon rose to his feet. In the back of his mind, the sound was familiar. Not long ago, he’d heard the same strange wail.

  Leon grabbed the hunting knife he kept by his side all the time. True, the weapon was nothing like his father’s sword, but it was silver-edged and sufficient to provide basic protection.

  A hand grabbed his foot.

  “Leon, go back to bed,” his mother said, her words too soft for the others to hear. “Let the storm pass. Dawn will come soon.”

  It was one of her favorite sayings. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, telling him she wasn’t entirely awake, but still halfway stuck in the land of dreams. Good.

  “I’m just checking on James,” he lied.

  “Okay, but come back quick,” she murmured, shutting her eyes.

  Leon made his way across the sleeping bodies. There were two staircases leading to the roof. He went for the lesser-known stairwell, the one guarded by James. Tortured shrieks assaulted his eardrums again. Shit.

  He found James with another guard, playing cards. They both sat on the steps, a flickering candle between them. The prints on the cards were barely recognizable and the rules of the game lost, but James liked to shuffle and pretend to know how to play. Each time James lured a sucker to a game, he made up the rules.

  “Leon, go back to bed.” Unlike his mother, James wasn’t easily fooled.

  “What? The skinny weakling wants to play hero?” sneered the other guard. Leon recognized him now. Garu was part of the group that had constantly bullied and tormented Leon in his childhood until James put a stop to the beatings.

  Ignoring him, Leon continued, “Can’t you guys hear that?” br />
  James looked grim-faced, no longer the amused friend Leon knew and loved. “I told you to leave it alone, didn’t I?”

  Stomach churning, Leon glanced at the dark stairwell James and Garu guarded. “They’re using children as bait, aren’t they?”

  He couldn’t keep the fury and outrage in his voice.

  “Little monsters, shifters who would grow up wanting to eat us, too,” Garu reminded him.

  What did that have to do with anything? Leon remembered the scared tabby shifter he couldn’t save, the shifter who tried to blend into his surroundings and never hurt anyone until their hunting group stomped all over his territory. Tightening his grip on the knife in his hand, Leon debated his choices.

  Most humans called shifters monsters, only natural, but using shifter children as bait enraged him. Those kids still possessed a human soul. All shifters did. They could be scared, too, fiercely protective of their young.

  “Is the bastard going to cause trouble?” Garu asked.

  “No.” Leon turned his back, or pretended to anyway. Once James and Garu turned their attention back to the game, Leon whirled and broke into a sprint. He jumped over the candle and cards, avoiding the hands attempting to swipe at him. Leon didn’t think he'd ever run that fast his entire life. Heart thumping, he ignored Garu and James shouting and spitting curses at him.

  “Sorry, James,” he whispered under his breath.

  This wasn’t right. He could ignore some of his father’s cruel practices when it came to shifters, but this was one act he couldn’t condone. Out of breath, he reached the top, pausing by the open doorway. Rain lashed at the ground. His father’s best killers combined with Snyder made up a dozen.

  They were spread around the rooftop, clutching at high-assault rifles Leon had a feeling Snyder sponsored. Bolted to the center of the rooftop was a cage big enough to fit a dog, or in this case, a small dragon shifter. No larger than a cat, the hatchling had startling white scales. Noticing the clipped wings, Leon’s heart cracked. Why the hell do something excessive and unnecessary?