It’s been more than a hundred years since a dragon has been seen with a slave collar. My ancestors might be rolling in their graves, but I wear mine with determination as I fly through the afternoon sky towards my mark. After checking in with Celeste, it’s an hour’s flight by dragon wing to the location Scythe wanted me to infiltrate today before my speech.
I have no idea if he’s helping me or trying to get me killed, but either way, I’m up for it. Normally, for a mission like this with a high-powered beast, I’d have backup of some kind, often both Savage and Scythe.
But Scythe wants to test me. Probably wants to see me bleed as well.
The mansion is a crimson structure, likely regularly painted from the bright colour under this harsh sun, which enables me to see if from far away. This mission requires stealth to begin with, so I wheel behind the property and drop into the bushland, shifting into my human form and donning military camo gear.
I trek for an hour through the sweltering bush, shouldering my heavy pack and wiping sweat from my brow. By the time I get to the outskirts of the property, I’m thoroughly irritated and ready to blow someone’s head off.
It’s just as well that there are three snipers hiding in the evergreens at the front of the property. They’re in their shifted forms, one loaned snake and two birds of prey, well camouflaged high in the trees with their planted weapons at the ready on specially made stands. If I couldn’t hear their hearts beating, I might have missed them.
Pew, pew, pew, I recite, as if I can pretend Savage is with me.
Well out of their eyesight, and the serpent’s thermal recognition, I get out my phone and detonate a small explosive I’ve set a few hundred meters away. It’s not big enough for human ears, but just big enough to be heard by the three snipers whose heads snap in the direction of the blast.
I take the opportunity to lasso the first two guns from the trees. The birds give warning cries, but they’re cut short as I catch one of the guns and shoot both of them between the eyes. The serpent has to shift to shoot his gun, but by the time I swing to him, he’s pulled the trigger. I lunge out of the way, rolling to a stop just in time, and shoot his naked ass right in the left cheek. Deciding that guns may as well be my backup today, distasteful as they are for a beast like me to carry, I hover two of them in front of me, ready to fire. The cast iron main gate has the family name declared atop of it and is locked with magic. I consider it for a moment.
My skin itches with the need to get back to the academy. It needs a dragon to protect it, and that means I can’t dilly-dally here.
The stealth attack I’ve planned will likely take an hour or so. The alternative, however…
I drop the guns in a bush and head to the intercom, pressing the doorbell.
“Who is this?” comes the curt voice.
I wave at the camera lens. “It’s Xander Drakos. I’ve come to have tea with the master of the house.”
“We were not expecting you.”
“Tell him I have information on Scythe Kharkorous, if he wants it.”
There’s a moment of silence before the gates creak open and I get to stalk through them and up the straight driveway. Two birds come out from the door, guns pointed at me.
“How did you get past the snipers?” one of them shouts.
I look around uncertainly. “Pardon? What snipers?”
“Get inside!”
“That’s where I was going,” I drawl, striding through the arched doorway.
A white suited Damien Agnis waits on the other side, four guards on either side of him, guns with red lasers aimed at my head. He’s scared these days; I’ve never seen an animus with so many guards, and honestly, it’s embarrassing for him.
“You are a wanted man,” Damien admonishes. “Where have you been?”
“You’re so sweet to be worried about me.” I examine my fingernails, stepping forward.
“That’s close enough!” one of the guards shouts.
I stop in my tracks, smiling at them and spreading my hands out like a benevolent king. “Of course.”
“What do you really want?” Damien asks. “I know you don’t have information on Scythe. He has not accepted you back into the fold.”
“You’ve always been intelligent,” I nod. “I’ve come to rescue the nimpins.”
“What?” he spits. “They are my property.”
“I know. But I want them to be my property, you see.” And what Aurelia wants, she gets.