Limited Special Edition: Dragon Guard Omnibus

Chapter 1

I’d never broken someone’s kneecap before, and the crunch and the resounding squeal were a delight to my ears. Who knew that the hilt of my double-headed axe Jezebel would make the perfect club?

“Stop, please stop!” Rae cried from her crumpled position by the hearth behind me.

Her face was a mass of bruises, her lip bloody and swollen.

“Are you kidding me right now?” I turned my back on my target, her sobbing abuser Mal, and walked over to her. “Have you seen your face? Is this what you want?”

She shook her head. “He loves me.”

Damn, her mouth was so swollen her words were thick and garbled, but I got the picture. Behind me Mal was panting and gasping in pain. I shot him a glance over my shoulder.

“Nah, he doesn’t love you, Rae. Love isn’t black and blue. Love doesn’t make you bleed because you overcooked his fucking steak.”

“Just finish it, Anya.” Helgi stepped out of the shadows, her jagged teeth bared as if baying for blood, which she kind of was. “Take the other one. Do it.”

Rae let out a piercing scream. “Fuck you, fuck you, Helgi; you promised. You promised you wouldn’t touch him.”

Helgi crossed her arms and grinned down at her ex-lover. “Yeah, I did. And I haven’t laid a finger on the bastard.”

No, that was my job. I was Helgi’s wrath tonight, and it was way past due. Mal was an abusive arsehole, and he’d been whaling on Rae for weeks now. Rae, who’d been Helgi’s first love, the woman who Helgi had been unable to get out of her heart and her mind.

I raised my makeshift club, ready to take out the other kneecap, but Mal was shuffling away, pleading, crying, and yeah, this didn’t feel good even though it should, even though he deserved it.

Rae rushed forward and threw herself across Mal. “How dare you? How fucking dare you?” Rae spat the words like bullets, her anger forcing her battered mouth to form the words clear as a bell. “You had no right. No fucking right. You couldn’t have
me, so you don’t want anyone else to have me?”

The look of raw devastation on Helgi’s face was too much.

I lowered Jezebel. “We’re trying to fucking help you.”

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

Anger, hot and potent, bloomed in my chest. “No, you just wandered around with bruises all over your face and a woe-is-me look in your black and blue eyes.”

Rae shot me a lethal glance. “You should have minded your own business. Mal has a temper, but he loves me. He doesn’t mean to hurt me.”

Those words. Those damn words. Every time I heard them the urge to shake some sense into the speaker had me cutting crescent moons into my palms with my nails. But shaking her wouldn’t help. She was blind right now, and all we could do was hope that when she finally opened her eyes to the truth it wouldn’t be too late.

Helgi’s jaw tensed. “He’ll kill you, Rae. One day he’ll hit you so hard you won’t get back up.”

Rae flinched and took a step back. “Fuck you, Helgi.”

Helgi’s chest rose and fell rapidly. “Don’t let it be too late. Please.”

Rae opened her mouth to say more, but I held up a hand. “We’re leaving. Now. Before I lose my temper and show you how much I care.”

Yeah, it was a mean, insensitive thing to say, but right now the only person I gave a shit about was Helgi. I turned my back on the pair. Something slammed into my back, clinked off, and hit the ground. I turned slowly to see a throwing dagger lying on the ground. I raised my eyes and pinned them on Mal’s red rimmed ones. He looked just as shocked as me. Rae, then? Fuck.

She lifted her chin, defiant and unapologetic.

Thank god for the scales on my back, otherwise…

“Motherfucker.” Helgi took a menacing step toward the pair.

I grabbed her arm to halt her. “No. Not worth it. They deserve each other.”

The look on my friend’s face as I propelled her out of the cottage and into the night was enough to make me want to pummel a rock.

Rae’s cottage was surrounded by dense woodland, but Helgi had made the trip enough to be able to navigate the area with her eyes closed. I followed her broad back, weaving through the trees in silence until the foliage thinned and we finally
stepped onto a dirt track.

Juniper, our dust buggy, was parked up, waiting. She was an ugly mishmash of parts, but her engine was solid, and she ran like a dream. Helgi and I had worked on her for hours in our spare time, sourcing parts and fitting them in my rundown, tiny
workshop on the farm. Juniper was our baby, and we happily shared custody of her.

I climbed up into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The silence was getting to me. “I need a drink.”

Come on, Helgi, let it go.

Helgi exhaled and rolled her neck on her shoulders. Yeah, this was my friend shaking it off.

She swung herself up onto the back of the buggy. “Let’s go get shitfaced and pick up a job.”

***

The air was absent the buzz of sentinels as Helgi and I made our way through the Outlands toward the Beer and Tap. It was late and I should be heading home to Dad and the kids, but Helgi needed this. If Dad found out what I’d done tonight and where I was headed, being stronger and larger than the
average female wouldn’t save me from a tongue-lashing. If he found out about the jobs we’d been picking up then there’d be hell to pay. But the jobs were a necessary evil, they were our way out of Dust Town and into the glades. I’d buy a house and set up a workshop repairing Outland tech, because technology was my thing, even though for some reason other Skins couldn’t wrap their heads around it.

Being the mutated offspring of Dreki and humans, we’d taken on many of the less appealing characteristics of our dragon ancestors, like scales, fangs, and talons. Many had also inherited the inability to comprehend human technology, but not me. I’d taught Helgi the basics. Enough so that when we got out of this dump we could partner and Dad could finally retire. I hadn’t told her the plan yet. That part was a surprise.

The Beer and Tap came into view. A rundown building—part brick, part wood, part sheets of corrugated metal, a patchwork of fabulousness in a desert of awful. This was the spot Skins went to drown their sorrows, celebrate their successes, or just forget the shitcake that their lives were. For Helgi and me, it was a place to source out information and to pick up our next job.

Bringing the buggy to a smooth halt, I pocketed the keys and climbed down. Far in the distance, the lights of Draco City turned the night sky a muted gray with all their electrically produced artificial light, tauntingly reminding us of what we could never have, not unless we signed up for voluntary servitude to the Draco, and like fuck that was ever going to happen. The dragon bloods, or the Draco as they were more commonly known, were the better-looking, unmutated offspring of Dreki and human unions, and boy did they never let us forget it.

“Fuck ’em,” Helgi said, echoing my thoughts, her tone gruff. “Who needs soft beds and central heating when we can have freedom?”

I snorted. “Yeah, sod them and their hot running water and instant electricity.”

The sarcasm was heavy in my tone, but Helgi just grinned, showcasing her jagged teeth—her curse for being a Skin, and the feature that gave her a dangerous air and had men pausing before taking her on and women melting at her feet.

Jumping off our ride, I stashed Jezebel in the hidden compartment at the base of the dune buggy.

We crunched over broken glass, kicking scattered bottle caps with our boots, and ducked through the door into the grimy, welcoming interior of the Beer and Tap. The scent of unwashed bodies, the blare of questionable music, and the familiar comforting sound of several colorful cuss words being bandied about slapped us in the face.

This was a no-weapons zone by unspoken agreement, where rival gangs and enemies could take a break from animosity, share a pint, and wax lyrical until it was time to step back into reality and don the mantle of hostility once more. But like hell I was going anywhere without at least three blades on my person. Blades were reliable—they didn’t run out of ammo and they didn’t freeze up on you. But we weren’t here to fight.

Not tonight.

“Anya!” A bearded monolith raised his tankard from across the room.

I raised a hand in greeting.

“You should fuck him,” Helgi said. “I’ve heard he has the stamina of a bull.”

“Not interested.”

“Fussy.”

“No, I just have standards.”

“Well, in that case, you may as well stick a lock on your cunt, ’cos class is the last thing you’re gonna find in the Outlands.”

I chuckled. “I’m good. You can keep me entertained with your exploits.”

Her guffaw was dirty. “Oh, babe, I could tell you some stories.”

“On second thought, please don’t ...”

She let out a bark of laughter and cut a path to the bar. Her broad frame parted the crowd like a crowbar.

Where my body was tall, lithe, and corded with muscle, hers was stocky and bulging with power, a gift from our ancestors—the Dreki—the dragons that had tried to claim our world a long time ago.

They’d procreated with humans and produced two new breeds—Dragon Bloods and Skins. The former were magnificent specimens of beauty, strength, and intellect—blond-haired,
blue-eyed, and perfectly proportioned—while the Skins turned out to be half-breed mutations with varying levels of aptitude and strength. The stories spoke of a time of peace between the Skins and the Bloods—a time when the older, better-looking child had shared the sandbox with their ugly sibling. But this time had lasted only long enough for the Skins to help the Bloods overthrow the Dreki and push them out of the city into the Furtherlands. Once the Bloods had claimed the Dreki stronghold, they’d renamed it Draco City and enslaved the Skins. Obviously, we’d fought back. We escaped to the Outlands, and the Bloods had finally left us the heck alone.

I guess the ongoing war with the Dreki was enough to keep them busy. Draco City was now a tech-heavy metropolis. For what better way to fight magic than with technology Technology was the Draco’s magic. It was their only weapon, because they’d inherited none of the arcane ability of the Dreki. Skins, on the other hand, were a varied bunch, and our connection to the arcane was stronger, resulting in killer instincts, premonition, and, in some cases, uncanny luck Unfortunately for me, all I seemed to have inherited was a barrel of aggression and the ability to wield pretty much any weapon I set my mind to.

Helgi slammed her fist on the bar. “Hey, Henry. Two ales, mate.”

Henry, the barman and owner of the Tap, raised his chin in acknowledgment, then continued serving his current customer.

“Damn, I’m parched.” Helgi smacked her lips together, leaned back against the bar, and scanned the room. “Any juicy cunny around?”

I rolled my eyes. “You seriously have a one-track mind.”

She glanced at me and sighed. “Shit, how selfish of me. Anya, would you like me to source you some cock?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh, wait, I forgot, you’re not interested.”

I snorted. “Piss off.”

It had been a while since my last liaison. Men were either intimidated by me or purely frightened. I was taller than most Skin males. Even Helgi was a head shorter than me. Sex for me was simply a release. Emotion didn’t come into it, and that was fine by me.

“No talent in here tonight anyway.” Helgi sniffed in derision.

The bar was filled with Skins, but there were no humans. There hadn’t been a human sighting for a very long time; many believed them to be extinct.

“Stop thinking so hard, it makes you look constipated,” Helgi said.

“Yeah? And my fist in your face will make you look black and blue.”

“Ha! You wish you could get a shot in.”

Helgi was right, she was fast. We’d scuffled plenty, and I’d yet to knock her out.

“Come on!” Helgi waved the barman over. “Ladies waiting to be served here.”

“You ain’t no lady!” one of the men up the bar called out.

Helgi gave him the finger, and the guy and his comrades burst into laughter.

“Here you go, ladies.” Henry slammed two pints of ale onto the counter behind us.

I handed him several coins and tuned out the two Skins to our left haggling over the price of gunpowder. Ammo was pretty easy to make, but gunpowder didn’t always come cheap. Another reason I stuck to my crossbow and blades.

The first gulp of ale went down smooth. Damn, that hit the spot.

A plump brunette sashayed over to the bar. Her gaze skimmed over me and settled on Helgi, who stood up straighter and puffed out her chest like a prize peacock.
Great. The mating dance was beginning, but if I let it continue my over-sexed friend would vanish into the night with her lover and any hope of a paying job would be out the window.

I slung an arm around Helgi’s shoulders and glared at the brunette in a back-the-fuck-off way. Her expression closed, and she quickly turned her head away.

Helgi shrugged me off. “I hate you, you know that?”

“We’re here to work, remember?”

“Pah.” Her lips turned down, but her green eyes twinkled in amusement.

Helgi was a handsome woman with strong, sharp features, and she loved fucking—men or women, but of late, mostly women. It was her escape from her shitty home life, which consisted of two lowlife brothers who expected her to pay their way while they lounged about doing nothing.

Helgi’s eyes narrowed, and she took a long swig of her ale. “Barret at three o’clock.”

A rush of heat ran through my veins. Barret was our main source of intel in the Outlands.
The man was a ghost unless he wanted to be seen. If he was here, it meant he had a job for us.

Please let it be something violent.

I tracked her gaze to find our target sitting in the shadows. Wait, that wasn’t Barret. This guy was bigger and bulkier, and his face was hidden in the gloom. His attention seemed to be fixed on the figure sitting at the table in front of him, which
actually did happen to be Barret. Our facilitator had his back to the large man. His hood was also up, hiding his face as it always did, but it was him all right. You could tell from the knobby knuckles and impossibly long fingers of his hands as he gripped his tankard.

I leaned in toward Helgi, all casual-like. “Who’s the other guy?”

Helgi sipped her ale. “What guy?”

“The one behind ... Wait, where’d he go?”

“Tut, focus, Anya. We’re here for a job, remember?”

She thought I’d been checking out the talent, and to be honest, the shadow-shrouded specimen had had a certain allure, but it had been curiosity, nothing else.

Helgi led the way toward Barret, using her stocky frame to pry the crowd apart, and then we were sliding into the tacky booth opposite him. He didn’t raise his head or push back his hood, didn’t acknowledge our presence in any way aside from sliding a piece of paper across the table toward us. There was a date, a time, and a set of coordinates on the paper. That was it.

“What is this?” Helgi asked.

Barret downed his drink, and then made to slide out of the booth.

My hand whipped out to grasp his wrist. “She asked you a question.”

He turned his head in my direction, the deep, dark recesses of that hood like a single awful eye staring into my soul. My pulse leapt and fear crawled up my throat. My ankle burned where a silver chain I’d worn forever made contact with my flesh. It was a warning, and I released him abruptly, shocked by the sudden stab of terror and the sting on my skin. Where the heck had that come from?

He turned away and melted into the crowd.

“What do you make of that?” Helgi asked, scrutinizing the scrap of paper as if expecting
more words to bloom across its stained surface.

“I don’t know.”

Barret didn’t talk. He never spoke, but he always gave us specific directions. Place, time, mission, and bounty on offer. We’d read, memorize, and then burn the paper. The guy was obviously mute. But this was just weird—coordinates, date, and time, but no details on the actual job.

“So what do we do?” Helgi asked.

“I guess we’re just going to have to show up to find out.”

“Hey, Helgi. Fancy a tumble?” a barrel-chested guy by the window called out.

“Unless you have tits and a cunny, I’m not interested,” Helgi shot back.

“Aw, he ain’t got the tits,” his companion said. “But he sure is a cunny.”

Helgi guffawed as I choked into my ale.

A shadow fell over the table. “Anya?”

Oh, fuck. I’d know that voice anywhere. I glanced up into Dunstan’s handsome, arrogant face. He was big, almost as tall as me, and the only male I’d allowed myself to feel anything for. Young, foolish Anya with stars in her eyes and hope in her heart. Dunstan had killed that with a reality check when I’d found him with a real woman. One that made him feel like a man, one that couldn’t pick him up and throw him around the fucking barn. It had hurt, but not as much as his face when I’d buried my fist in it. And that was me done when it came to relationships. Funny thing was, once I was no longer
interested, the arsehole wouldn’t leave me alone. The man was like a throwing star, cutting and deadly and impossible to lose.

“How have you been, Anya? It’s been a while,” he said with his signature smolder.

“Not long enough.” I didn’t bother to offer him a smile.

“You’re looking well,” Helgi said. “How were your travels?”

Dunstan was a hired hand like us. In fact, it had been through his recommendation that we’d
gotten our first gig with Barret. His way of apologizing for being an ass, no doubt.

“Travels were productive,” he said.

Helgi shot me a sly glance. “Join us.”

Bitch. She was getting back at me for the curvy brunette at the bar. That’d teach me to cunny block her. I grit my teeth as Dunstan took her up on the offer. His knees brushed against mine under the table, and the impulse to flinch was almost too much.

“How’s the old man?” he asked me.

“Fine.”

He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Have you heard the rumors about the sentinels?”

Helgi nudged me under the table with her knee, and my ears perked up because information was information.

“Common belief is that the Draco are up to something,” Dunstan continued.

Sentinels were the Draco’s eyes. They sent them over the Outlands every so often. They
were hovering discs that gathered data to take back to Draco City. We had no idea what the information was used for.

“Sentinels are always hovering above the Outlands,” Helgi scoffed. “They’re probably
trying to locate all the smugglers exporting tech out of Draco City, or making sure that we aren’t gathering an army in preparation to attack the city and take it back, or checking the Dreki haven’t somehow found their way here.”

She was right, the sentinels were harmless. If the Draco wanted to attack, we’d have no
chance at defense. Even though Skins probably outnumbered the Draco two to one, the Draco had the tech and armory to bring us to our knees. Our primitive weapons didn’t hold a candle to their sophisticated ones. We still relied on fossil fuels while they’d engineered an alternative that was limitless and twice as powerful. The only way a Skin ever made it into the city was if they were signing up for the army or for servitude.

“It’s more than that,” Dunstan said. “They’re gearing up for something, we just don’t know what. I’ve put the feelers out, but so far crickets.”

If Dunstan was entertaining the idea that something was about to go down, then maybe we should be wary? He was a tosser when it came to romance, but he was excellent in the spying and intelligence department.

Dunstan glanced over my head and the skin around his eyes tightened. He cursed under his breath. “I have to go, but I’ll see you around.” He slid out of the booth and made to duck into the crowd.

That was it? No come-on. No innuendo? Something was wrong.

“He’s running,” Helgi said in a singsong voice.

Shit, she was right.

“There he is!” someone shouted.

Dunstan froze on the edge of the crowd and turned back. His body was tense even though his expression was amiable. He held up his hands. “Guys. I was just coming to find you.”

Three large males strode up to our table. One had green scales running down the side of his face and across his neck and collarbone. The other had the vertical pupils and yellow irises of the Dreki, and his hands were covered in thick leather gloves, probably hiding another deformity. The final Skin had the flared nostrils and turgid upper lip of his Dreki ancestors. All three were openly carrying weapons—breach load, double barrel shotguns sawn off to pistol size, and Magnum bolt-action rifles. The shotguns were pretty common, but the rifles could brin down big game in a single shot. They were expensive and wielded predominately by only one type of Skin.

Mercenaries.

Dunstan was in shit with a band of mercenaries. Of all the scrapes to get into ... Seriously? The guy was a beautiful moron.

Dunstan flashed the mercs a grin. “Guys, guys, I’m sure we can resolve this like gentlemen.”

“You ain’t no gentleman, D,” the turgid-lipped merc said. “You’re a fucking double-crossing thief. Now hand it over.”

“I don’thave it.” He looked over at us. “I just sold it to them.”

The mercs turned their thick necks to look at us, and Dunstan bolted.

Ah, shit. I slid out of the booth with Helgi at my back. “He’s lying, obviously.”

Turgid-lip, the spokesperson of the trio, looked me up and down. “How about we make sure?”

He stepped toward me, hands out, ready to frisk me.

He never made it.

A fist connecting with bone is always a satisfying sound, especially when that bone belongs to someone who could tear you a new one given half the chance and the fist belongs to you.  Mercs are lethal, so hearing one scream like a bitch was mighty satisfying.

Helgi, the crazy cow, burst into belly laughs. The merc’s backup team recovered from their shock and moved in for the kill. The Skin with the mashed nose glared at me with bloodshot eyes that bled murder.

Helgi’s laughter cut off. “Anya, shit is about to get crazy.”

My lips parted in a grin. “Hell, yes.”