Dragon Mage: Dragon Wars, #6

By Shéa R. MacLeod

After leaving Fossil on a mission to discover the truth about his past, genetically enhanced super soldier, Ben, found a new home as right hand man to the head of the Triad of China Town. Fighting dragons and protecting citizens is all he cares about, until the day he meets Bella.

 

When Bella is kidnapped by a psychopathic cult that believes women are witches and witches need burning, Ben risks everything to save her.  But in saving her, he might unleash a greater evil on them all.

 

This fast-paced adventure is the sixth in a mesmerizing and addictive post-apocalyptic romance series (with dragons).

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sunwalker Press
• Release date: Feb 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9781386378921

Book preview

Dedication

This book is dedicated to those who never gave up.

Chapter 1

AN EXPLOSION ROCKED the ground. Hot metal sliced Ben’s arm as debris flew through the air. The piercing shriek of a dragon sent shivers down his spine. He’d been fighting drags for over two decades and it never got easier.

Ben!

He whipped his head toward the shout. One of his men—black hair dusted with ash— crouched behind a crumble of brick and concrete from what had once been a tall building. Skyscraper, maybe. But it hadn’t scraped any skies since the Before. The jagged remains of walls jutted only about a hundred feet in the air, blackened in places from old drag fire.

It hit the tanks? The question was more rhetorical than anything, but Ben needed to know. This was his first mission as leader and he wanted to prove Jason had been right to trust him.

Yep. The man, Neo, wiped dust from his eyes. We won’t have enough fuel to get back.

We’ll worry about that later, Ben said grimly. Did we lose anyone?

Two of Katzu’s men.

Shit. Katzu was one of the three Triad leaders. He was not going to be happy about the loss of his men. The drag shrieked again, strafing the ground with fire. The stench of burning asphalt stung Ben’s nose. Gun fire echoed against the crumbling walls of burned out buildings. He peered at the monster hovering above them, its wing tips almost touching the ruined buildings on either side of the street. Its thick armor plating shone dully in the fading light of the sun. No way were bullets going to bring down that drag.

And why the hell was a drag out this early, anyway? It must be desperate. Drags were sensitive to the sun. Only the really old or really hungry would brave it.

We got anything stronger than those? He nodded toward his men dressed in black swat gear, weapon barrels pointed at the drag. The guns were useless against dragon scales.

Neo shook his head. Not us, but Katzu’s men have a grenade launcher. They’ve been saving it.

Well, now’s the time to stop saving and use it. He pushed himself away from his hiding place and ran toward the commander of Katzu’s contingent, Takei. Takei’s men wore black, too, but with red bands tied around their sleeves. Takei himself wore identical clothing to his men. Nothing to show that he was in charge. Nothing but the ice-cold eyes. Ben admired the man’s absolute lack of fear. Since coming off Dr. Barnes’ juice, fear was an almost palpable daily reminder that he was no longer the super soldier he’d once been.

Strong, yes. Fearless? Not quite.

Ben squatted next to Takei behind a rusted-out bulldozer. He vaguely remembered playing with a toy version as a young child. He shoved the memory away.

I hear you have a grenade launcher.

Takei’s expression gave away nothing. Have you.

I think it’s time to use it. Right now we’re just wasting bullets.

Takei’s gaze never left the drag. Katzu will want to know why we wasted his grenades.

Ben wanted to shout, Fuck Katzu. Katzu wasn’t out here risking his ass in the Badlands for a few extra supplies. Instead he said calmly, If we’re going to get out of this thing alive, we’re going to have to use it. We’re all in this together.

The other man didn’t bat an eyelash. But he did bark out an order in Japanese. Ben breathed a sigh of relief as a red banded soldier brought out a scuffed, green launcher.

You used one of these before? Takei’s voice was a low rumble.

Many times, Ben admitted. Once upon a time he’d belonged to a paramilitary group that called themselves The Marines. They were nothing like the true Marines of the Before. They didn’t protect, they destroyed. They took what wasn’t theirs. And they killed or enslaved innocent people. Something he’d learned recently. Something that flooded him with shame if he thought too much on it. But they had taught him how to use a vast array of weaponry, and that came in handy.

Takei motioned for the soldier to hand Ben the launcher. Then you take the shot. You’ve got the best chance of hitting the thing.

Ben lifted a brow. You’ve never used one?

Takei smirked. I was in dental school in the Before. Not much call for shooting grenade launchers.

Good point. Ben took the launcher and studied it carefully. It was just like the ones he’d used with the Marines, although there were no signs of recent use. He could only hope the thing would work. Probably hadn’t been fired in over twenty-five years.

He waited for the drag to wheel again. Okay. Here goes nothing. He stepped out into what was left of the crumbling street and hoisted the launcher to his shoulder. Sighting carefully, he waited. And waited. The drag swooped closer. Sweat rolled between Ben’s shoulder blades and down his back, tickling as it went. The hot sun baked his skin. The drag opened its mouth, fire building at the back of its throat.

Ben fired. The grenade shot down the beast’s throat. The drag screamed. The world went up in flames.

DID YOU HEAR?

Bella glanced up from the bed she was remaking to find her sister, Lola, lounging against the wall smacking a wad of pink gum. Lord knew where she found it. The pink matched the stripes on Lola’s top which was paired with baggy cargo pants and a pair of well-worn Converse high-tops. In the Before she’d have been a candy striper—according to the head nurse, Maude—and worn a pretty dress in that same striped fabric. One of those girls that volunteered to read to sick people or file hospital paperwork in the Before. But nobody had the luxury of that sort of thing now. There wasn’t time or energy to read to sick people or file paperwork. The girls in the pink striped uniforms were training to be full-fledged nurses and their work was just as grueling as Bella’s.

Did I hear what? Bella asked, straightening and giving her back a stretch. She hadn’t ached this much in a while. An outbreak of cholera downriver had kept the hospital overcrowded and the staff —such as it was—overworked. She gave her armpit a sniff and winced. She really needed a shower and a change of scrubs.

Another nurse disappeared last night. Lola’s tone was nonchalant, but Bella could see the fear in her eyes.

Bella pressed her hand to her stomach, dread pooling in a sick swirl. Who was it?

Miriam Donnoly. Tucker says she was near the Badlands when the Domers snatched her.

This time Bella felt her gorge rise. The Domers? Are you sure?

That’s what Tucker said. Lola’s voice was small. He could be wrong though, right?

Tucker wasn’t known for being wrong. Tucker was the hospital’s best Tracker. He spent weeks, sometimes months, at a time wandering the Badlands and beyond, searching for items left over from the world of the Before. Items that could help the healers do their jobs. Like medical texts, equipment, things like that. Likelihood was if Tucker said a thing was so, it was so.

Sure, she reassured her sister, turning to retuck a sheet corner that was already perfectly tucked. Tucker could be wrong. I mean, what’s he know, right? Miriam could have just gotten herself lost. You know what her sense of direction is like.

But she knew from the way Lola looked at her that they both knew she was lying. Still, it was a pretty lie. One that made them both feel better. Sort of.

How many was this now? Three, at least, and there weren’t that many nurses or assistants at the hospital as it was. They couldn’t afford to lose anymore.

Here. She stepped back and motioned Lola toward the bed. You finish up. I need to...check inventory.

Lola tucked her gum in her cheek and gave Bella a knowing look. Sure. Okay. It was clear she didn’t believe her sister, but she took over the bed making as asked.

Bella made her way quickly to the Tracker’s station down in the basement of the old building. In the Before, the two story building had been a medical clinic serving a smaller community with a big city. The ground floor had a large front lobby with a reception desk, waiting areas for patients, and several exam rooms. The second floor housed a few more exam rooms, doctor and administration offices, and a kitchen and break room for staff. The basement was for storage, waste disposal, and housed the massive heating and cooling systems necessary to run such a place.

Now, the main lobby was also the nurses’ station. The waiting areas had been turned to operating rooms, and the exam rooms into patient wards. The second floor—accessible only by stairs since the elevator broke down twenty years ago—was now the staff living quarters. The basement was Tucker’s domain. He and his trackers used it as home base when they weren’t out hunting down useful supplies, or items for trading.

She took the stairs down carefully, feeling her way in the almost pitch dark. From below, a faint golden light glowed, assuring her that at least one of the trackers was home.

The hospital had a meager supply of electricity from the old solar panels on the roof. They didn’t waste it on