Forged in Fire: An Urban Fantasy (Moonlight Dragon Book 4) (13 page)

I pushed back into the shipwreck and from there turned and engulfed the tank and Dr. Morrow's monster in fire. I transformed the tank into a crematorium, cranking up the heat until the walls melted and the remaining water evaporated in great sheets of steam. Not even that plated monstrosity could withstand the incinerating temperatures. The creature began to smolder and then to blacken. It collapsed and finally burned.

Like the doctor's other creation, it didn't make a sound as all evidence of its existence turned to unidentifiable ash. It simply gave up, and I had to re-run Vale's assurance through my head that I was doing this creation a favor by putting it out of its misery.

As soon as it was gone, I made the leap back into my human body because my dragon brain wasn't going to cut it. Tearing free of my dragon was like ripping duct tape off my lips or maybe getting a Brazilian wax, but the agony was short-lived.

In contrast, what Las Vegas now faced could be eternal.

Still wincing at the pain of separation, I stumbled through the acrylic tube and into the adjacent gift shop. The ground shook and trembled continuously as though a contingent of tanks drove just outside. Stuffed sharks and fish tumbled off the shelves, joining other toys and novelty items that lay scattered across the floor. I pushed out through the door and into the casino and was instantly greeted with a scene of pandemonium.

Not much could get gamblers to leave their slot machines and gaming tables, but apparently an enormous earthquake and a growing crack in the ground could do it. People ran this way and that, screaming, confused about which way to go as the walls and ground shook and slot machines began to fall into the widening gap in the floor. Signs sparked and fell off the ceiling and walls. Gaming chips rolled across the carpet, now useless while this madness was occurring.

I'd opened the Rift. I'd been tricked. I'd been so arrogant in believing I could predict the Oddsmakers actions, but they'd been leading me by the nose the entire time, telling me not to go after the capstone, knowing I would insist on doing the opposite. And Vagasso poking me, too, infuriating me and driving me into a frenzy of hatred for him so that I did what they wanted me to: breathed dragon fire on a capstone that could only be activated by a dragon.

My mother had avoided this. So had Uncle James. But I'd been the sucker. Mastering my dragon hadn't been my strength; it had made me vulnerable to being used like this. I'd fallen for the scam hook, line, and sinker. And now the world would be overrun by demons. Because of me. Maybe Xaran could have stopped me had he been here and seen where all this was heading. But I'd cleverly "killed" him.

I was such a fool.

Despair made me sweat. Fear pushed me through the throngs of terrified, confused people, searching desperately for signs of Vale or Christian. The casino floor was huge. It would be like searching Disneyland for a specific child. Eventually I gave up hope of finding them here and ran past the ballrooms and restaurants to the front of the casino and one of the exits which was clogged with terrified guests.

I had to fight my way out the glass doors but escape provided only a temporary relief. I say temporary, because although I was out of the screaming and dangerous press of panicked bodies and falling signage, the view outside made my insides shrivel with terror.

The Rift glowed. Had this occurred during the day it wouldn't have been so dramatic, but against the darkness there was no doubt that something burned within the enormous crack that had splintered up the center of Las Vegas Boulevard. And what a split. It ran up the southbound lane, as wide as five feet in some places and growing wider with each shiver of the ground. A couple of cars and taxis had fallen into the chasm and were at risk of disappearing completely inside. Thankfully the drivers and passengers were climbing out of the vehicles on their own or with the assistance of bystanders.

The palm trees running up the center dividers of the boulevard shivered and shook. Some teetered sideways as the foundation gave way beneath them, crushing car roofs. Windows shattered in businesses, including much of the black slanted glass in Luxor. The Egyptian themed pyramidal building looked like the victim of a mugging with its jagged, gaping holes through which smoke was rising.

Farther up the Strip, where casinos bracketed either side of the street, the damage would be much worse.

I ran across the parking lot, weaving between sprinting guests and panicking drivers.

"Vale!" I cried out. My knees nearly buckled with relief when I saw him and Christian slumped over the back of Christian's Audi.

He spun around at my cry but immediately winced and curled over himself, one hip braced against the trunk. Christian, looking sickly and with his hair mussed wildly, helped support him with an arm around his shoulders.

"Oh, god, I didn't know where you were!" I blurted when I reached them. I squeezed Christian's arm but then quickly bent over to try to get a look at Vale's face. "Where are you hurt?"

"Ribs," he panted. "At least two are broken." He forced himself to straighten up despite how much pain he was in. "What about you?"

It sickened me to admit, "I'm fine." My eyes filled with tears. "I opened the Rift. My dragon activated the seal. This is all
my
fault!"

"No, none of us could have predicted this," Vale said savagely. I had never seen him look so furious, and I was glad his fury wasn't aimed at me. "Without knowing more about the capstone this was inevitable."

"They played us good," Christian said hollowly. His expression was haunted. I bet he would never forget what he'd seen in that tank and how he'd influenced the sea life to attack it. "I saw Vagasso leaving after you cleared the room of that blackness, Anne, and he slapped me to the floor like I was a little bitch." His gaze shimmered. "He told me I was just like my father: completely useless and too dumb to live. The demons would have a field day with me, he said. That was why he chose not to kill me."

I rubbed my mouth, afraid I was going to throw up. "I'm going to destroy him, Christian. I promise you."

"You're the only one who can," he agreed, looking nothing like the handsome, carefree guy who'd first entered my shop with Vale's statue.

And that was a problem: his faith in me. My dragon had so far proved to be a huge bust. All I'd succeeded in using it for was to set us on a collision course with the end of the world. I didn't know what the hell I was doing and that was literally going to kill us.

"We need help," I stated. I stabbed a hand through the tangled nest on my head. "Where are all the magickal beings in this city? Why aren't they doing something?"

"Aren't they?"

Vale pointed out past the Strip, where lightning bolts zapped through the sky, colored pinks and oranges like no lightning in nature. I traced them back to two women who were crouched behind a car. With their arms they tried to direct their magickal strikes at dark, four-legged creatures that raced down the street. I couldn't make out what they were, only that they weren't human. Had demons come up through the Rift already? I didn't think so. Something else stalked Las Vegas. Awesome.

I saw the bushy head of a palm tree begin to topple on a screaming crowd but then twist in midair and fall against a building instead. Amidst the tourists running pell-mell on Tropicana Avenue stood an elderly man, fingers pressed to his temples. When the Merlin statue inside the Excalibur sign tumbled out of its perch, heading on a deadly collision course with the cars below, the elderly man jerked. At the last second the Merlin statue went spinning safely to the side, smashing against empty pavement.

Farther north, half a dozen teenagers stood holding hands in front of the New York, New York Casino. They could have been mistaken for a prayer circle except ice radiated out from beneath their feet, crusting over Las Vegas Boulevard and racing alongside the Rift. But despite the thickness of the magick ice, it melted where it drew within a couple of feet of the crack. The heat coming up from below was simply too intense. The ice turned to water and funneled down the street or instantly vaporized when it neared the Rift, sending up great, billowing clouds of steam that created an even spookier atmosphere.

Magickal beings were out there, alright, and they were trying to make a difference. But this was too much for them. It was too much for everyone.

Or was it?

"The seals," I said, wide-eyed. "Vagasso and the Oddsmakers still have to push the nine seals to fail. We need to get to the ones they haven't reached yet and defend them. Maybe that'll be enough to keep the Rift from blowing open completely."

"I'll drive us." Christian hurried to climb behind the wheel while I helped Vale into the backseat. Vale groaned and clenched his jaw. I suspected he'd broken more than a couple of ribs, but we couldn't take the time to tend to his injuries and he would have been angry if I'd tried. Once he was settled, I jumped into the passenger seat.

"Hang on," Christian warned, white-faced. "It's going to be hairy." He tore out of the lot, skillfully dodging the running tourists and falling palm trees.

"Keep away from the edge," I urged as we followed along the seam of the Rift. "It looks like it's as hot as a volcano inside."

Indeed, the street was flooding thanks to the teenagers trying to freeze the Rift and failing. Christian's Audi hydroplaned a couple of times, nearly sending us careening into the cars that people had either abandoned or pulled onto the sidewalks in an effort to gain distance from the Rift.

I braced hands and feet as we narrowly dodged people and vehicles alike while the ground continued to violently shake and the Rift grew wider. It yawned enough to swallow a car whole now, and the light coming from within painted the entire sky above our heads an eerie orange. Sirens and screams filled our ears. Glass continued to fall from the casinos and hotels and neon signs toppled into the street. The gas pipes beneath the Mirage's volcano had burst, sending banana-scented fire spraying into the air.

The southernmost seal, hidden at the bail bonds shop, was inaccessible. The Rift had twisted into the northbound lane and beneath the shop, causing the entire building to collapse into the glowing cavern. It was an awesome sight, like the destruction left in the wake of a tornado. The seal was destroyed for sure. I just prayed that whoever had been inside the building had been able to get out in time.

Christian bounced up over the center divider to circumvent cars and the debris that poured down the street as we continued to the tattoo parlor. I could see the building up ahead and I sat forward hopefully, urging Christian faster.

But as we drew nearer I could see a problem. The tattoo parlor was surrounded by a pack of demonic wolves.

Once upon a time they had been normal—I would argue beautiful—wolf shifters like Lev. But either the alphas had struck some sort of demented deal with Vagasso or this had been inflicted upon them against their will. They were now something not of the Earth. Their soft, thick fur had fallen out, replaced by inky quills tipped with drops of scarlet liquid that I'd bet money was some kind of poison or contagion. It gave their silhouettes a violent, menacing edge, like a nail bomb frozen in mid-explosion. Their snouts had elongated to accommodate the thicket of additional, longer fangs that had burst from their lower jaws. Red eyes glowed with malice and hate from within folds of leathery skin dotted with leaking quill tips.

As Christian approached the shop, the wolves circled the building unceasingly, their enormous, vicious-looking claws raising sparks against the asphalt lot. One wolf rammed the front door of the building with its spiky head. It moved away and another wolf rammed into the door. They were taking turns to bust it in, but magick had reinforced the door. The demonic wolves looked pissed about it.

"Holy crap," I breathed as Christian slowly drove past and red eyes turned to watch us. "Don't stop."

"I won't," he said nervously as we watched the spiky monsters circle the building like swarming sharks while others continued their assault on the door.

"Please let Lev not be one of them," I said softly, thinking not only of my friend, but of Celestina.

I could see more of the wolves now, sparks bursting beneath their claws and illuminating their trail as the black figures raced up the street, no doubt heading for the other seals. This was why Vagasso had wanted them. They were doing his dirty work for him by clearing the way for him to reach the nine seals that had been weakened by the destruction of the capstone.

"I think he tricked them," I said, angered on their behalf.

"If we don't keep the Rift sealed, it won't matter," Vale reminded us soberly.

"Painfully to the point." Christian gunned the Audi up the street, slaloming around a taxi that had been tipped on its side, its front wheels overhanging the edge of the Rift. A demon wolf glanced back at us, bared its hedge of fangs at us, and leaped over a trash can before disappearing into shadows up ahead.

"I'm beginning to think that the odds are getting worse that we can keep this thing closed," Christian muttered. "Forget about what I said about needing to be there at the end, Anne. If I bite the dust I need you to keep going after Vagasso. And…I want you to watch over Melanie if I'm not there to do it. Take care of her." He glanced quickly at me, soberly. "Please."