Of Fury and Fangs: Of Cinder and Bone, #4

By Kyoko M

Someone wants Dr. Rhett "Jack" Jackson dead.

After surviving a vicious attack from a dragon in his own home, Jack and Dr. Kamala Anjali investigate who sent the dragon to kill him. Unfortunately, their list of enemies is long. Plenty of people have an axe to grind with the two scientists responsible for the rebirth of the previously extinct dragons that are now flourishing on every continent of the planet. Jack and Kamala rejoin with their team at the Knight Division to hunt down the culprit and put an end to their revenge scheme once and for all.

But will it cost them everything?

Of Fury and Fangs is the fourth novel in the Amazon and USA Today bestselling Of Cinder and Bone series, following Of Cinder and Bone, Of Blood and Ashes, and Of Dawn and Embers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kyoko M
• Release date: Jan 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201745349

Kyoko M

Kyoko M is a USA Today bestselling author and a fangirl. She is the author of The Black Parade urban fantasy series and the Of Cinder and Bone science-fiction series. The Black Parade has been reviewed by Publishers Weekly and New York Times bestselling author Ilona Andrews. Kyoko M has appeared as a guest and panelist at such conventions as Geek Girl Con, DragonCon, Blacktasticon, Momocon, and Multiverse Con. She is also a contributor to Marvel Comics' Black Panther: Tales of Wakanda (2021) anthology. She has a Bachelor of Arts in English Lit degree from the University of Georgia, which gave her every valid excuse to devour book after book with a concentration in Greek mythology and Christian mythology. When not working feverishly on a manuscript (or two), she can be found buried under her Dashboard on Tumblr, or chatting with fellow nerds on Twitter. Like any author, she wants nothing more than to contribute something great to the best profession in the world, no matter how small.

Book preview

Of Fury and Fangs

Kyoko M.

Of Fury and Fangs

Copyright © 2020 Kyoko M

Of Cinder and Bone series

Of Cinder and Bone

Of Blood and Ashes

Of Dawn and Embers

Of Fury and Fangs

Of Claws and Inferno

Other Works by Kyoko M

The Black Parade

The Deadly Seven: Stories from the Black Parade series

She Who Fights Monsters

Back to Black

The Holy Dark

Visit http://www.shewhowritesmonsters.com for more

Cover art by Marginean Anca

Edited by Ash Spring

Poem by Patricia Spears Jones

What is lost when love ceases

is the power to forget

the early sweetness, the late bitter

talk, the longing for renewal—we all want

Spring, but

Spring does not want us.

Persevere, the skies murmur. Persevere

you weeping poets. You funny beasts.

Hopeful and hurting breathing dragons’

magic fire. Dry seasons last much too long

which is why deserts are vast. Floods don’t help,

but days of chilly showers make for blossoms pink,

blue, violet. A soft evasion.

Drink from the lake’s glacial cup.

Hope for better winters.

-Excerpt from Jim by Patricia Spears Jones

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

EPILOGUE

Acknowledgments

Author’s Note

CHAPTER ONE

ATOM BOMB BABY

It was one-thirty a .m. when all hell broke loose.

The security alarm shrieked, its panicked cries high and deafening, and nearly catapulted Dr. Rhett Jack Jackson off of his comfortable couch where he'd been sprawled in an exhausted, impromptu slumber. Jack let out a startled yip of surprise as he leapt to his feet, blinking hard to clear the sleep from his brown eyes. He winced as the screaming alarm jabbed at his eardrums and hurried over to the control pad on the wall near the front door. He punched in a code and the alarm fell into blessed silence. He sighed in relief and then swiped to another screen to see what had caused the disturbance.

The security alarm, unfortunately, was a bit overdramatic. Over the past year, Jack had gotten used to the system crying wolf every so often due to its oversensitivity. Once, it had gone off when his daughter Naila had slapped both palms against the downstairs window facing the backyard. Another time had been when their German shepherd Brunhilde had been teaching herself to open the sliding door. Its first two weeks of installation had been a nightmare as well, since it often went off and the house’s occupants couldn't even identify the source of the problem. By now, Jack had developed a lot of reservations about it, and had been considering switching to a new system.

He rubbed his eyes with his palms before he read the alert aloud in a gravelly, sleep-deprived voice. Upstairs master bedroom. My ass, it's the bedroom window. Unless it's the damn Easter Bunny, I'm going back to sleep.

Jack took two steps towards the couch and then heard his daughter's distressed wails, wincing. Oh, right. The munchkin.

He instead turned and headed for the stairs, yawning and scratching his messy brown hair, calling out, Hang on, chubby monkey, Daddy's coming.

Jack reached the top of the stairs.

And stopped dead.

There was a dragon standing in the darkened hallway.

At first, Jack swore he was still asleep. He had to be. He couldn't possibly be seeing correctly.

And yet the icy fear slipping down his spine said differently.

The dragon stood at roughly five feet tall once its head rose upon sighting Jack at the other end of the hallway. It was lean and had dirty brown scales with an off-white belly. Its black, hooked claws kneaded the carpet as its yellow eyes stared at Jack, its pupils dilating to drink him in from head to toe. Its wings rustled along its back on either side of the sharp spines protruding down its body to the thin, whip-like tail. A single horn glinted sharp and deadly under the small, motion-activated hallway light.

The only thing more noticeable than that were the many long, jagged scars scored across the creature's stomach, limbs, and neck. It had been hunted recently. Judging from the depth and extent of the scars, it had certainly killed a hunter or two to have survived with so many marks.

Okay, Jack whispered hoarsely. Five bucks says you're not the Easter Bunny.

The dragon's nostrils flared. It adjusted its body, feet apart, lips sliding away from sharp, gleaming white teeth in a warning hiss. Mercifully, Naila had quieted and no longer drew the creature’s attention. Jack swallowed hard and held out one hand, bending slightly so his 6’2’’ frame was less threatening. Look at me, buddy. Just keep looking at me. It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you. Why don't you just come this way, huh?

He took a single step down and the creature crept towards him, hissing louder. That's right. This way. Come on.

Jack eased backwards one stair at a time. The dragon let out a warning bark and followed him, its saliva leaving damp patches on the cream-colored carpet. Along the way, Jack had slipped his phone out of his pocket and dialed 9-1-1, hoping he had just enough seconds left in the reptile's waning patience.

9-1-1, what's your emergency?

Listen to me carefully, Jack said, not letting his eyes stray from the dragon as he fumbled behind him for the handle to the sliding glass door. He then quickly gave her his address before continuing. There is an Appalachian forest dragon in my house. Get someone over here as fast as you can.

We're contacting a retrieval team now, sir. Please stay calm and try not to make any loud noises or sudden movements—

Jack had one bare foot on the cool stone of his patio when his daughter cried for him again.

The dragon's head turned towards the direction of upstairs.

Jack dropped his cell phone, grabbed a patio chair, and slammed it down on top of the dragon's head as hard as he could.

Whumpf! The blow flattened the forest dragon onto its belly. Jack hit it a second time, but the wooden chair fractured in half. The forest dragon charged him. He managed to dodge to one side, avoiding its deadly horn, but the creature slammed into him with its full weight. He cried out as it sent him flying across the grass and he landed hard in a heap several feet away.

He managed to roll to one side as it swiped at him with its claws, tearing chunks out of the soil where his head had been, and leapt to his feet again. The dragon whirled and whipped its tail at his head, but he ducked and rolled again, landing in the rose bushes. He heard a metallic scrape and felt around under the plant. A small shovel had been left from Kamala's recent gardening. He scooped it up and threw himself into a dive roll as the dragon barreled forward again, snapping its jaws at his head.

Jack lunged onto the dragon's back, wrapping one arm around its neck to hold on, and jabbed the shovel into the creature's eye. It shrieked in pain. He aimed for the other one, but the dragon flapped its wings, sending them several feet into the air, and then it slammed them both into the ground with Jack underneath it.

Jack cried out as its spines gouged his chest. His back, right leg, and right shoulder screamed with pain under the weight of the wriggling reptile. The dragon shoved itself onto its feet and tried to chomp into his neck, but he shoved his forearm in the way. The dragon worried him like a dog with a bone, but he aimed a kick at its tender belly that sent it sprawling eight feet away. Jack felt hot blood sliding down his arm, coating his fingers, but he didn't stop to feel the pain; just struggled to his feet again once again as the dragon righted itself. He held the small shovel in front of him like a small combat knife and narrowed his eyes, panting with exertion.

You're not going back in my goddamn house, Jack growled. Over my dead body.

The dragon snorted, as if it understood him somehow.

Then it leapt into the air and flew onto the roof.

Jack froze in disbelief, and then raced back into the house as fast as he could.

He slammed one shoulder into the door to the baby's room, forcing it open so hard the dresser beside it shuddered. His one-year-old daughter, Naila, immediately pushed to her wobbly little feet and grasped her fingers in the direction of her father, tears tumbling down her cheeks. Jack practically flew over to the baby and scooped her out of the crib, tucking her against his uninjured shoulder.

Hey, shh, it's okay, pumpkin, he whispered, kissing her forehead and dark brown curls. Daddy's got you. It's okay.

The window across from him shattered as the forest dragon smashed through it and landed in the middle of the room.

Naila let out a hysterical cry and buried her face in her father's neck, screaming, Dada!

Jack grabbed one side of her playpen and roared, hurling it at the dragon. It slammed into the creature's side and pinned it against the closet for a few precious seconds.

And seconds were all Jack needed.

He raced down the stairs, grabbed his keys from the dish, and darted into the garage. He shut the door behind him and ripped open the door to Kamala's powder-blue Volkswagen Beetle. Blood-soaked hands shaking, he strapped Naila into her car seat and climbed into the car just as the dragon rammed the door between them and the house. Jack hammered the garage door button, shouting, Come on, come on! in pure frustration as it slowly groaned to life and lifted from the ground.

The door splintered apart. The dragon came tearing at them again, rocking the car as it threw itself against one side. Jack didn't wait for it to try a second time. He stomped on the gas and the car shot out of the garage, its roof scraping the door, and down the driveway. The tires squealed as Jack made a sharp right onto the street and peeled out.

He glanced in the rearview mirror, expecting to see the dragon give chase, but there it stood in the street. The dragon threw its head back and an eerie, almost alien howl of rage filled the cold night air, raising the hairs on Jack's arms. Its yellow eyes burned into his retinas. He would see them in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

Then, the dragon flapped its wings and darted towards the house next door.

Jack's blood ran dry. Oh, God. Marci and Tim. The girls.

He'd known his neighbors since before he and Kamala had rented the house. They were both high school teachers, and had happily babysat Naila since the one-year-old got along swimmingly with their six and eight-year-old daughters. If anything happened to them...

Jack gritted his teeth as his daughter's cries brought him back to reality. He had to stay with her. She was so scared and helpless. She was his whole world. He'd bled and fought for her every step of the way.

But he knew exactly what that forest dragon was capable of.

Marci and Tim's family would never stand a chance.

Jack shut his eyes for a second. God forgive me.

He stomped on the brakes in front of a pretty yellow house on the next street. He got out and picked Naila up again, then ran to the front door. He pounded on it frantically and rang the doorbell until the door opened on a worried black couple in their fifties.

Jack?

Felicia, I'm so sorry about this, but there's an emergency, Jack said to the woman. I need you to watch Naila. I'll be right back.

But—

Jack kissed Naila's forehead. I love you, baby girl.

He raced back to the car and then gunned it back towards Marci and Tim's house.

When he pulled into their driveway, it was just as he feared.

The front door hung off one of its hinges and had deep furrows in the wood. He shut off the Beetle and hauled open the trunk. There was a large black case inside. He popped it open and retrieved a weapon roughly the same size and dimensions as a small grenade launcher, and strapped it onto his back.

Then he ran for the house as fast as his legs could carry him.

Marci! Tim! he bellowed once he made it into the foyer.

We're in the girls' bedroom, Marci's shaken, high-pitched voice echoed back. Hurry!

Dammit! Jack took the stairs two at a time. He could hear Tim's grunts of pain and the thud of a struggle. He rounded the corner to see the teacher swatting at the dragon with his daughter's aluminum baseball bat, and the dragon just barely stayed out of its reach. Tim had cuts on both forearms and across his forehead, and Marci had the kids in her arms, shielding them in the corner. The dragon stood between them and the door, with its back to Jack.

Exactly what he needed.

Hey! he barked.

The forest dragon whirled to face him instead.

Jack shot the launcher at it.

A huge diamond-wire net wrapped around the reptile and instantly tightened on contact. It hit the floor with a heavy thud that shook the picture frames off the walls and made the little girls scream. The dragon thrashed, but its limbs and wings were pinned inside the net, and it couldn't do more than just flop to and fro. Finally, it went still on its belly, and its yellow eyes fixed upon Jack with a look of pure murder, its tail lashing back and forth.

Jack lowered the launcher and hurried over to Tim. Hey, you okay?

Tim shuddered and lowered the baseball bat. No. You?

No, Jack said, giving him a wobbly smile. Still alive, though.

He offered his hand to Marci. She accepted it and stood, handing one daughter to Tim and holding the other as she cried, and together they carried them safely out of the room.

By now, sirens whooped hysterically and headed in their direction. Jack and Tim stood at the demolished front door and watched the blue-and-red lights creep closer.

What the hell happened tonight, Jack? Tim asked quietly, stroking his daughter's curly hair to sooth her as she sobbed into his bloody shirt.

Jack shook his head. I don't know, man. But I'm sure as hell gonna find out.

SEVERAL POUNDING KNOCKS on the door to her suite awoke Dr. Kamala Anjali from slumber.

The 5'4'' scientist groaned into her pillow, but lurched from her bed and shuffled across the carpet to open the door. When she did, she was met with an attractive black man in his thirties. He had a goatee and wore a gun-metal grey Kevlar suit with a helmet tucked under one arm, and he was beaming down at her with excitement.

We've got a live one, doc, Bruce Calloway told her. Get dressed.

Kamala sighed. Now? I only finished my last analysis four hours ago, Calloway. I've just barely gotten any sleep.

Oh, I know how to put the pep back in your step. He leaned in slightly. It's a mimic dragon.

Kamala's honey-brown eyes widened. What?

Yep. Someone called it in about fifteen minutes ago and dispatch sent word just now.

Have any of the hunters caught word of it yet?

No. We're first on the case.

I'll be ready in five, she promised, and then shut the door. She scurried over to her closet and ripped off her boyfriend's oversized MIT t-shirt and shimmied out of her shorts in favor of grabbing an armored suit nearly identical to the one Calloway wore. However, hers was much smaller and tailored to fit her curvy frame. She zipped it up and checked that the pouches on her utility belt were all snapped shut before slipping her phone into one, snatching up her helmet, and rushing out the door.

Where? she asked Calloway as they hurried down the hallway of the barracks towards the hangar.

Farm on the city outskirts, he said, punching in some coordinates in the digital interface built into the forearm of his suit. Kamala's suit beeped and then she brought up the information he'd transmitted. Guy went to go check on his herd when he heard an uproar and found the mimic dragon inside munching on a calf. Scared him half to death, so he called it in and holed himself up in the house with a shotgun just in case.

Good man, she said. I'm glad some civilians aren't trying to go after them on their own. I can't believe it's a mimic dragon. They've never been seen in North America before.

Exactly, Calloway said as he hit the button for the elevator. Civvie said that he didn't want to open fire and cause a stampede, and that after he calmed the cattle, he couldn't find it again.

Incredible, Kamala said. Aren't they the size of a large dog?

Or bigger, from what the history books say, he agreed. So the chameleon thing must be real. But it begs the question of where those clowns even found the DNA to replicate it. Kamala had to agree. Like the arctic dragons, mimics are incredibly rare with less than a hundred ever sighted in the wild before the worldwide extinction.

If we get one thing right in this endless mission, I hope we find out just how the Apophis Society is gaining access to those DNA samples, Kamala growled, watching the numbers on the elevator climb up to the launch pad level. They are insanely well connected. We've been keeping tabs on nearly every source of dragon DNA on the planet and yet we're always one step behind. Did you hear the rumor that some remains of an intact diablo dragon went mysteriously missing?

Yeah, Calloway sighed. Them's the breaks. Especially when your evil global organization has access to pretty much all the money you'd ever need to fund your illegal cloning operation. I just pray they haven’t had a successful trial. The diablo dragon’s the second deadliest species on Earth and we’ve already got out work cut out for us.

The elevator doors opened onto the roof of an enormous hangar. It was the wee hours, so there was only one helicopter on a designated pad with its console lit up. Spotlights bounced off its polished steel and illuminated the white emblem on the side that depicted a heater shield with the initials K.D. upon it.

Calloway and Kamala climbed inside to find the pilot waiting. He was tall, olive-skinned, and mid-thirties with a thick beard and a winsome smile he aimed at his teammates as they boarded.

Calloway gave him a grin and a fist-bump. Yousef, my man. Who did they drag you out from under to come fly us out?

The pilot laughed. Shit, they offered me time-and-a-half so I told her I'd buy her breakfast when I got back.

Calloway shook his head. Incorrigible. Got your coordinates already?

Hell yeah. Let's kick the tires and light the fires, kiddies.

Calloway and Kamala strapped in while Yousef did the pre-flight check and made sure their gear had already been loaded as well, and then the helicopter took off into the night sky.

When's the last time you checked the feed for any hunters in the area? Kamala asked over the roar of the helicopter rotors.

About fifteen minutes ago, Calloway said. It's quiet so far, but we both know that doesn't mean shit since any pissant can give it a go these days.

Tell me about it. I will never understand why they endanger themselves for money and the pretense of fame.

That's because you're a grownup, doc, Calloway snorted. Most of these ‘hunters’ are kids. Either adrenaline junkies or rich little YouTubers trying to increase their follower count. Until we get the legislation in place, it's a damned free-for-all.

As if our job isn't hard enough. You'd think the death toll would dissuade them.

Calloway shrugged a shoulder. Get rich or die trying. Emphasis on the die part.

Kamala shook her head. Every morning, I pray that this world returns to some form of sanity before my daughter is old enough to have to participate in society.

Calloway gave her a pat on the shoulder. Who are you kidding, doc? The world was never sane to begin with.

She gave him a regretful smile in return. Touché.

The ride wasn't terribly long—just under fifteen minutes, and mid-April meant a cool night in the Midwest. They came up on a mid-sized farm with plenty of open acres, its grass and forests already green from the beginning of spring. Yousef found a flat stretch in the field to touch down and they climbed out. Calloway strapped a net launcher across his back and Kamala activated her dragon tracker as they approached the barn.

Shit, she muttered as she examined the interface. The interference with the cattle is pretty bad. It's throwing off the readings. Plus, they're almost in a frenzy. We've got to get it out of there before they all go berserk.

Roger that, Calloway said as he tugged his helmet on and slid the launcher around to his hands. What are you thinking?

Strobe lights, she said. The noise of the cattle is too loud to try an audible distraction, but it's probably dark in there and it'll be attracted to light. I'll be the bait. Just be ready.

Yes ma'am. He offered his fist. She bumped it and then took a deep breath before continuing forward on her own.

The farmer had left the barn's side door unlocked for them, so Kamala carefully pushed it open to reveal the large space with its dirt floors and iron bars where the cows were corralled daily to be kept at night. By now, she'd gotten used to the stench of the livestock; after all, the smell pervaded the air for miles and she'd gotten a whiff as soon as they left the helicopter.

The cows shifted and mooed in protest with nervous energy, their eyes glowing from the few spotlights in the ceiling. It was almost completely dark inside and the constant shifting of the frightened cattle made it difficult to concentrate, but she managed as she shut the door behind her.

The iron bars that held the animals were securely posted in the ground, but she knew if all the animals panicked at once, they could trample them or bend them out of shape. She walked forward slowly with a small, military-grade flashlight in one hand and her tranquilizer gun in the other. She had hoped the cattle had grouped together in one spot to avoid the predator, but they were scattered throughout the enclosure and seemed just as confused as she was of its whereabouts. The stench of gore and spilled guts reached her nose and she glanced to her right to see the corpse of the calf the dragon had already devoured. Most of its internal organs were gone, leaving a pool of blood and torn fur behind. She suppressed a shudder and slid into the pen to examine the area.

She checked the claw marks in the dirt and glanced up to see that one of the skylights had been shattered. The dragon had dropped down from above much like an eagle scooping up prey and had killed the calf on the spot. The cattle had run to the other side of the pen to avoid being mauled as well, and currently were bumping into each other to stay away from the fresh kill. She spotted a trail of blood leading away from the corpse and squinted at the cattle. A few of them had scratch marks on their pelts. The dragon had likely gotten spooked by them, or by the farmer when he entered the barn to check on the noise, and would have attacked in self-defense.

Kamala lifted her flashlight to the walls of the barn, going slowly, and checking it against the dragon tracker built into her suit. She didn't see anything on the ceiling or on the walls. There was a chance it had left the barn again, but her gut told her otherwise. She continued towards the cattle and checked among them for anything unusual, but she didn't spot the dragon trying to hide among their ranks. With a frustrated sigh, she turned to head back to the door.

Then, her tracker beeped.

There, not three feet from the shredded calf, lay what she had thought was a pile of hay and dirt. The heads-up display in her helmet switched to a different field of vision, revealing the camouflaged mimic dragon.

Kamala froze and swallowed hard. Maa ki aankh.

And just as she recognized it, the dragon opened one grey eye and stared directly at her.

Calloway, she whispered. I've spotted it.

Atta girl, he said over the comm-link. Are you coming out of the side door or do you think it's going to make a break for it out of the skylight?

Not sure, she replied. No scarring. Based on its lack of aggression, it may never have interacted with anyone since it was cloned. We know there are different sites out there, not just the ones planted by the yakuza and the Apophis Society. Did the farmer say if it tried to attack him?

No. It gave him a warning, but he's not hurt at all.

Then there is a good chance that it will simply be attracted to the light instead of attacking. I'll try and get it to come out of the side door.

Ten-four, doc.

Kamala muttered a quick protection prayer before she switched the flashlight from a constant beam to a strobe setting.

The mimic dragon opened both eyes, and its scales changed from the dark brown and light-yellow of the dirt and hay to a light green with mottled dark green splotches along its back and down its tail. It was roughly the size of a North American wolf, just as she'd suspected; big enough to be dangerous, but not impossible to catch if one had the know-how. The dragon unfurled from a ball and shook out its wings, staring intently at the flashing light. Calf blood dripped from its fangs and dribbled down its mandible as it walked towards Kamala, its nostrils flaring as it took in her scent.

Behind them, the cattle mooed loudly in fright, and the walls of the barn shook as they tried to pack themselves against the far side. Kamala eased out of the pen and took slow steps backwards. The dragon followed her as if hypnotized. We're coming out now, Calloway.

She pushed the door open with her heel and walked through it backwards, her gaze never leaving the creature as it trailed after her. She needed just a few more feet to give Calloway a clear shot and then they'd be home-free.

Just then, a strange buzzing noise sounded overhead.

Frowning, Kamala glanced up to see a drone appear from over the top of the barn. What the hell?

Before she could move an inch, the drone shot a blast of glow-in-the-dark ink at the mimic dragon. The reptile snarled and shook out its wings, then leapt into the air after it. The drone flitted away into the night sky like a bat out of hell.

Shit! Kamala snarled. Someone else is out here.

Calloway swore. It's probably leading the dragon to whoever owns that damn drone. Come on!

They booked it through the field after the fleeing drone and angry dragon, heading towards a line of trees near the border of the property. Kamala pulled a silver whistle from her utility belt and slid up the visor of her helmet, bringing it to her lips. She blew hard.

The mimic dragon swerved mid-flight and circled around, flying towards them instead with a roar of annoyance.

Calloway skidded to a halt and planted his feet, aiming.

Down in three...two...one!

He shot the net launcher. The diamond-wire net deployed, but the dragon spun nimbly out of its path and ploughed right into him at top speed. Calloway and the dragon tumbled backwards into the tall weeds in a heap. The dragon dragged the launcher from his grip and slung it several feet away from him. It turned to one side as Calloway sprang to his feet and cracked its tail at his midsection. Calloway brought up a forearm and blocked the blow before grabbing the dragon’s appendage and latching on. The creature wriggled and snapped its head around towards him, much like a captured gator, but he turned counterclockwise out of the path of its jaws.

Snarling, the reptile’s throat bulged and then it spat a fat glob of venom at his head.

Shit! Calloway ducked just in time and heard the weeds behind him sizzling as the acidic substance ate straight through them. Aren’t you just a charmer?

Hang on! Kamala called as she hurried over, but as she did, the drone zipped past her, missing her by mere inches. Bright flashes lit up the clearing as the drone’s camera snapped photos of the beast. The dragon thrashed angrily and lobbed a mouthful of venom at the drone instead, but it veered to one side and kept taking pictures.

The dragon snapped at Kamala’s heels as she scampered past it and dive-rolled in the tall grass. She snatched up the net launcher when she came up on one knee and shouted, Calloway, down!

The other dragon hunter released the dragon’s tail and jumped back just in time. A second net shot out and engulfed the dragon. It yelped and fell in a tangled bundle to the grass.

It's alright, Kamala said soothingly, rolling it onto its belly. Easy, easy, now.

She retrieved her tranquilizer gun and measured the dosage carefully before injecting the dragon in a soft spot beneath its jaw. The creature's wriggling slowed, and then stopped altogether. She checked its pulse and sighed in relief that it was stable.

Then she stood, reached for her flare gun, and shot the hovering drone right out of the sky.

It exploded in a shower of sparks and fell to the ground in a mass of broken metal and glass. She stalked over to it and dug out the camera attached. It still had a little red light on that indicated it was recording.

Whoever this is, Kamala said, seething. Do not ever try this again. You are not a dragon hunter. You are a reckless, ridiculous child seeking attention and you nearly endangered my life, my colleague's life, and the life of this dragon. Cease this madness immediately or we will come after you with the full force of the Knight Division and the U.S. government.

With that, she threw the camera to the ground and stomped it to cut the feed.

Well, Calloway said mildly. That's one way to make an impression.

I tire of these fools, Kamala growled as she swept off her helmet and dusted the dirt away. How many more innocents will die while they play these games?

I'm sure a few centuries ago, some folks just like us were asking the same questions, he said solemnly as he signaled Yousef to fly over to them. Ain't nothin' new under the sun, Kam.

He nudged her shoulder with his own as he removed his helmet and gave her a reassuring smile. But we're still making a difference one dragon at a time.

We are, but will it ever be enough to change the tide?

Guess we'll find out together. Good work, doc.

She smiled back at him. Good work, Calloway.

Just then, her cell phone buzzed from inside one of the belt’s pouches. Confused, she withdrew it to find her boyfriend calling. Strange, she thought. It was nearly two a.m. in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

Jack? Honey, what are you doing up so late?

She heard him exhale shakily into the phone. I know, baby. There's...there's been an accident at the house.

Kamala's blood turned to ice in her veins. Oh God, Jack, are you okay? Is it Naila?

She's fine. We're both fine, but...I need you to come home. It's a mess. Everything's a fucking mess and I need you here.

I'll be there as fast as I can. I swear it.

Thanks, angel, he sighed. Call me when you land.

I will. I love you.

I love you more.

JACK HUNG UP AND WINCED as he stuffed his phone inside his pocket. The cuts across his chest had already been cleaned and bandaged, but it still hurt to move most of his upper body. He reached for the hot chamomile tea resting on a coaster on the coffee table, careful not to move too much and disturb his sleeping daughter. Naila had taken quite a while to calm down, but he'd managed. Now she was sprawled across his legs, her little face resting on a pillow, her long lashes on her chubby cheeks as she slept. He took a sip of tea and put