Sword of the King (24 page)

It was the most normal thing he'd ever done, and he still didn't quite know what to think about it. Shoving the phone back into his pocket, he pulled away from the motel entrance and around the back to their room.

Yawning as he dragged himself back out of the car, Blaze grabbed their overnight bag and trudged to the room he'd rented for the night. Swiping his keycard, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room smelled like most motel rooms: old cigarettes, cheap cleaner, and stale ass. But it had a bed and a shower, which was all he fucking cared about, and he might just say fuck it to the shower.

Blaze threw the overnight bag on the closest bed, then flopped down on his back on the other one. He groaned, muscles stiff and sore from too much activity the day before followed by spending all that day in the fucking car.  The groan turned into a yawn that watered his eyes, and Blaze really just wanted to roll over and go the fuck to sleep. "I cannot fucking wait until this is over with."

Erie growled in agreement. "Food?" he asked.

The idea of going out made Blade all but whimper. "I'll get us food, but lemme rest for a bit. Come doze with me for thirty minutes, and then I'll go find dinner."

"Yes, Blaze," Erie said, rumbling happily at the request, crawling up to him from the foot of the bed and cuddling up along his side. He nuzzled and nipped against Blaze's throat, still rumbling all the while, and if Blaze wasn't so goddamn tired he would definitely be all about Erie fucking him into the mattress.

As it was, he could barely muster the energy to steal a soft kiss before dozing off.

They both woke with a jerk to someone pounding on the door. Erie growled low, but not with any sort of threat, though that didn't stop Blaze from reaching for his gun. Who the fuck would be bugging them, and how the fuck had whoever it was found them?

"Open up, asshole!"

Blaze immediately relaxed as the voice registered.

"Seriously. Open the fucking door or I'll eat your burger."

Laughing, Blaze climbed out of bed and opened the door. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"It was you or be stuck with my father and that asshole," Ken said, shoving his way into the room, Nev close on his heels, hauling at least three bags that filled the room with positively sinful smells. "Why the fuck did you leave without me?" Ken demanded as he deposited the bags on the table and chair by the window, then dumped his own overnight bag next to Blaze's. "Seriously, man."

Blaze just looked at him. "What?"

"What?" Ken repeated. "What the fuck do you mean 'what'?"

"Did you really just say that?"

Ken rolled his eyes. "Fuck you, man." He rifled through one of the bags and pulled out a six pack of beer. "Just for that, and for going off to war without me, you get no beer."

Blaze finally shut the door, then folded his arms across his chest and raised one brow. "I wasn't aware I was supposed to wait for you. Last I checked, you were busy with your dad and uncles or whatever. This was always a solo venture."

"Solo my ass," Ken snapped. "You don't go taking on an entire fucking syndicate with just a gun and a dragon.

"It doesn't seem much of an improvement to go two of each."

Ken shot him a disgusted look and cracked open one of the cans of beer.

"Give me one of those, asshole, or I'll leave you here in the morning."

"Good luck with that."

Blaze's lips twitched, but he refused to let the smile out. "Give it."

"Yeah, yeah," Ken said, rolling his eyes again and handing over a beer. Taking another swallow of his own, he then set the can aside and dove back into the bags. "I stopped at a burger joint that didn't look half bad. Two each for you and me, I'm not even discussing the dent the lizards put in my wallet—you damn hoovers—and then damn near my weight in fries."

"I could eat my weight in fries right now," Blaze replied, and dumped the last bag on the floor. He took the bag of hamburger patties that Ken thrust at him, and divided them out between the two dragons. They sat on the floor, backs against the bed, and began to devour them.

Blaze drank a swallow of beer, then began to eat his own food, drowning his fries in ketchup. Biting into his first burger, he damn near moaned. "This is really fucking good."

"Yeah, dives always have the best food," Ken said, shoveling fries in his mouth like his life depended on it. When he could talk again, he asked, "So did you have a plan, or is this a guns blazing sort of thing?"

"Shit, we were lucky that worked with Leo. Rust will have heard all about that by now, and be waiting. I'm surprised he hasn't called me yet, unless whatever he's heard didn't include that his former pit fighter was one of the crazy gunmen."

Ken nodded and worked on his burger for a minute, chasing it with a swallow of beer. "Where are we going to find Rust? Not another skyscraper I hope."

"He does have high rise offices, but no, his real syndicate work is done in the backrooms of the pits. He'll probably be there, surrounded by more muscle than we could ever overcome."

"So I guess we're going in anyway?"

Blaze nodded, finishing his first burger and starting on the second, pausing only to wolf down a few fries.

Ken snorted. "Last I checked, I was the reckless one."

"Never said I wasn't, man," Blaze replied, digging out paper napkins to wipe off his fingers. "I'm just more circumspect than you about it."

"Circumspect?"

"Fuck you."

Ken snickered and finished his own food. "So basically we're screwed. I don't suppose you know something that will give us an edge?"

"Not really, I was going to play it by ear," Blaze said. "Rust is a show-off, though. He likes to make a scene and he likes to be the star of it. So he won't just shoot us, he'll use us to teach everyone else a lesson, make it clear he's still master of the masters."

"Gotcha." Ken gathered up all their trash into one bag, then dropped the bag by the tiny trashcan next to the TV. "So we go in, kick ass, shoot Rust. I've worked with less of a plan."

Blaze snickered. "I would be impressed to know you worked with any sort of plan even once."

"Fuck you," Ken retorted congenially. "Unless you want to stay awake, I say we crash. Going to be a long fucking day tomorrow."

"Crashing sounds good to me," Blaze said. He went to the far bed and sat down to remove his shoes and socks, then dropped his t-shirt on top of them. He waited until Ken and Nev were settled in one bed, Erie in another, then killed the lights and slid in next to Erie.

"Night," Erie sang out, then cuddled close to Blaze and almost immediately fall asleep.

*~*~*

"What in the fuck are you doing here?"

Blaze snapped awake, sat up and reached for his gun—then saw who Ken was shouting at, rolled his eyes, and laid down to catch a few more winks while they bickered.

"You are still severely injured, and the two of you are not enough to go up against the entire syndicate," Amr said, and Blaze didn't have to open his eyes to know Ken was gritting his teeth and tensed to launch himself at Amr.

When Ken let out a sharp, "Hah!" Blaze sighed and opened his eyes, giving up on any chance of sleep, and just watched the show. Ken jabbed Amr's in the chest, smirking in triumph when Amr winced. "You're the one who got his ass beat nearly to death, don't go fucking telling me I'm too hurt to go anywhere. You can barely stand. You should be with Raf, recovering. Stupid Mordred."

"Being Mordred has nothing to do with this."

"I agree," Ken said almost cheerfully. "You're stupid, no matter whatever else you are."

Blaze stared at them as they continued to argue, Ken all motion and volume, Amr still and quiet, their eyes never straying from each other. It was the strangest thing he'd ever seen, really.

Weirdly, it made him miss Rafael. He could not wait to be rid of Rust once and for all, and go back. Go ... home, perhaps. Throwing back the blankets, Blaze climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom to take a piss and brush his teeth.

By the time he finished, Ken and Amr had reached another standstill. Blaze pulled on his clothes and shoes, slid his gun back into its holster. He looked Amr over critically. "You can barely stand."

"Barely is good enough," Amr said, gold eyes flashing, a faint smirk curving his mouth. "Remember the effect we had on you before I nullified it?"

Making a face, Blaze said, "Yeah."

"Multiply that by a very large number," Amr said.

Blaze laughed. "I see." He shrugged into his jacket and took the overnight bag that Erie brought him. "Where is Cam, anyway?"

"Still in the car," Amr said. "The meeting with Clan Cross left him tense, and he is going to be put under quite a bit more stress before this is all over."

Ken scowled at the words, making Blaze curious as to what he'd missed. "I'm surprised your family didn't tag along."

"They're going to stall the rest of Cross," Ken said. "Dealing with Rust is going to be easy, compared to the fucking drama that will go down when someone finally pins us down long enough to try and take Cam. Not that they will, but getting rid of them is going to be fucking irritating."

Blaze sighed. "I want a fucking vacation."

"I'm sure your new boy toy will be more than happy to take you to some sandy beach," Ken replied, smirking.

Amr cut in before Blaze could reply to that. "Come, the sooner we do this, the sooner we can move on to more important things. I know Rafael will not rest until you return to him."

Ignoring his own flushed cheeks and Ken's snickering, Blaze hefted his bag and headed out to his car. Erie was quiet during the drive, so lost in thought he did not even turn on his music. Blaze let him be, as it would probably be the last quiet they enjoyed for a long time.

The three hour drive to Rust's territory seemed both to take forever and no time at all. Blaze parked his car well away from the warehouse, and waited for Ken and Amr to join him, checking his gun as he waited. "Ready, Erie?"

Erie growled, stripping off his clothes and throwing them into the car. Shutting the door, he shifted into his dragon form, late morning sunlight gleaming over his scales. Already the temperature around him had increased slightly. Blaze reached out and stroked his head, fingers sliding along the smooth, hot scales. Erie growled, the sound soft and deep, vibrating through Blaze.

Blaze knelt, and Erie rubbed against him, rested his head on Blaze's shoulder, nearly too hot to touch. He growled again as Blaze caressed his scales. "You're beautiful," Blaze said softly.

The scuff of boots drew his attention, and he slowly stood up as the other four approached. Silver and gold scales caught the sunlight and flashed like well-polished metal. All three dragons rubbed and pushed against each other, and Blaze shared a faint smile with Ken and Amr.

Amr nodded his head toward the warehouse. "I'll lead the way, just tell me where to go."

"Dead ahead, past the pits themselves. There's a door in the very back that leads to a narrow hallway. Rust's office is the third door on the right, all the way at the end. But chances are he'll stop us at the pit floors."

"Let's get it over with then," Amr said, and walked out. Dressed in a black three piece suit with thin gold stripes and a black and gold striped tie, complementing his dusky skin and dark hair, he looked every inch a boss.

The cluster of men who were waiting for them inside froze the moment Amr and Cam entered. Guns slid from nerveless fingers and dropped to the floor, all of them staring wide-eyed as they fell to their knees and bowed their heads.

"That's something else," Ken muttered as he and Nev moved forward to deal with the fresh group at the far end of the warehouse.

Three black dragons and ten various elemental dragons all came out of the back rooms of pits—the holding pens, and to judge by the way their gold eyes were covered by a thin green film ... "They've been drugged," Blaze warned. "Someone injected them with Frenzy."

"I've never heard of that," Amr murmured, right as the dragons attacked Nevada.

Blaze gestured to Erie, who immediately joined the fray. But two dragons, no matter how talented, were not going to be a match for thirteen, especially when those thirteen were Frenzied.

He could even the odds by taking away the masters, though. It was cruel to break a dragon that way, but as drugged as they were, they were already lost. Blaze drew his gun.

"Wait," Amr said, holding a hand out, the other resting on Cam's head. "Cam—"

They both stopped as the main doors banged open behind them—and swore as still more dragons spilled in, at least another fifteen of the bastards.

Blaze raised his guns—

More doors flew open, connections to other warehouses, the treatment rooms, until they were all surrounded by more dragons than he could fucking count. With a jerk of his head, Blaze called Erie back to his side. Erie came, the air around him waving from the heat, blood and scratches marring his scales, more blood dripping from his jaws. His tail lashed furiously back and forth.

"Can't you do your freaky shit again?" Blaze demanded, gun ready, Blaze growling at his side. They formed a ring with the others, Nev and Cam growling loudly, Ken with gun drawn, Amr standing around as though waiting for a waiter to take him to his table.

"Soon," Amr murmured, looking amused as men piled into the warehouse behind the dragon, calling out taunts and crudities.

The back door flew open, and Blaze stared as Rust walked toward them, as casual and laidback as Amr. Blaze wanted to roll his eyes. As Rust drew close, Blaze said, "I wasn't your fucking snitch."

"You were still going to betray me," Rust said. "That much is clear by now."

"I was just going to run. I wanted to give Erie a better life than fighting in this hell hole."

Rust laughed coldly. "You're a pit fighter, Blaze. What the fuck else are you good for? I've been better to you than anyone else."

"No," Blaze said quietly, thinking of Rafael:  his smile, his kisses, the way he always put the dragons first. The way he'd told Blaze to be careful, to return. "I found someone better. We'll figure out what else dragons can do."