The Steel Dragon
Steel Dragons Series™ Book 2
Kevin McLaughlin
Michael Anderle
This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2019 Kevin McLaughlin & Michael Anderle
Cover Art by Jake @ J Caleb Design
http://jcalebdesign.com / jcalebdesign@gmail.com
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
A Michael Anderle Production
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact support@lmbpn.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US Edition, November 2019
eBook ISBN: 978-1-64202-600-9
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Kevin’s Author Notes
Michael’s Author Notes
Books By Kevin McLaughlin
Books By Michael Anderle
Connect with The Authors
The Steel Dragon Team
Thanks to the JIT Readers
Dave Hicks
Deb Mader
Diane L. Smith
Dorothy Lloyd
Jackey Hankard-Brodie
Jeff Eaton
Jeff Goode
John Ashmore
Larry Omans
Micky Cocker
Misty Roa
Paul Westman
Peter Manis
Rachel Beckford
If we’ve missed anyone, please let us know!
Editor
The Skyhunter Editing Team
Chapter One
Kristen Hall had always found the city of Detroit to be breathtakingly beautiful, but it was stunningly so when seen from half a mile up in the sky. She pumped her dragon wings and pushed herself higher and higher. Having gained sufficient altitude, she tucked them in, spun, and plunged toward the earth below while she twirled in circles.
She uttered a whoop of joy—an odd sound for a silvery dragon with a mane of white hair, perhaps—and extended her wings, caught the cold winter air, and slowed her descent. Not too long before, she had thought that achieving her dragon form and flying would be the hardest thing to learn, but that hadn’t proven to be the case. Her dragon self knew how to fly. She merely had to think up or faster or chase that pigeon and her body instinctively obeyed.
Holding luggage with her claws proved to be less instinctual.
Her overstuffed duffel bag plummeted to the slushy streets of Detroit below her and she cursed with irritation. Get it, she thought, and her wings obeyed, but she understood instantly that this would be an extremely close catch. If she encountered the wrong pocket of air, she might very well make impact herself.
Her mind made up, however, she clenched her dragon jaw and continued her dive. It was better to practice on her clothes, a few books, and some toiletries than with a human. Still, she really didn’t want her clothes to actually land. The streets had already been treated with salt, and a few days of light snow in downtown Detroit meant the snow was no longer white and powdery but grayish-black masses of sludge. She really didn’t want the duffle she’d be living out of for the foreseeable future to splash into a salty, oily slushy accumulation of ice.
With no hesitation, her body obeyed her desire to retrieve the bag. Despite already falling at the speed of gravity, her wings pumped and forced her streamlined shape to descend even faster toward the rapidly approaching pavement.
Already, her luggage had passed the tallest skyscrapers. With another beat of her wings, Kristen was beyond the buildings as well. Now, the cars below multiplied rapidly in size. Whereas before, they had seemed like slow-moving ants, they now seemed like what they really were—fast-moving steel boxes that would be even less capable of stopping quickly on the wet wintry roads than she would be able to in the air. She considered turning to steel—that way, if a car collided with her, she at least wouldn’t be too badly injured—but the subconscious part of her brain that controlled her flight told her it was a bad idea. Her increased mass would make it much more difficult to stop.
But she was close to her bag—halfway down past the tallest buildings…two-thirds…three-quarters. Her brain screamed at her to pull up, but she was so close.
Finally, when it seemed she couldn’t wait any longer, she spread her dragon wings and caught the breeze. The air resistance almost jerked her body to a stop and she had to remind herself there was more to a dragon body than simple physics. It took magic to keep her aloft, but that magic had limits. It didn’t stop her completely but changed her direction.
Still, she had unfortunately pulled up too soon. Despite her proximity to her duffle, it fell past her claws as she tried and failed to snatch it. She lashed out with the talons on her feet as well, but those too missed.
“Come on!” she roared and willed every part of her body but her wings to catch the bag.
Her tail responded.
Kristen had been so preoccupied with her wings and the feeling of her silvery mane in the wind that for the la
st half-hour, she’d forgotten she had a tail. She remembered now as the long, elegant silver-scaled appendage whipped out and snagged its barbed tip through the strap of the bag.
She whooped in pride as she pumped her wings furiously and gained altitude again.
Unfortunately, the ax blade positioned immediately below the spear-like point at the end of her tail sliced through the strap and the bag careened into a downward spiral once again.
This time, the part of her brain that controlled her flight was quite concise in its answer to her desire to catch the duffel. No, her dragon reflexes told her in virtually the same moment that the bag splashed into a puddle. Had it landed only a foot to the side, it would have been on the sidewalk, but a little luck was simply too much to ask, of course.
With a regretful sigh, she released a great gout of steam and perhaps smoke—she had yet to use her fire breath—and landed on the sidewalk. She knew some dragons could transform from their dragon body to their human one as they landed, but she hadn’t learned that yet. As a result, a massive silver-scaled dragon landed on the streets of Detroit.
It spoke to the long history of dragons presiding over human culture that no one really said anything. A woman with a stroller walked faster. A panhandler who had decided to stay in the frozen city rather than migrate south for the winter with most of the beggars flashed a cardboard sign at her that said, will work for gold. A couple, holding hands and obviously still in the early stages of a relationship, slowed and decided to admire the architecture of the building across the street instead of moving any closer to a grumpy looking dragon.
A little boy noticed her, though. At first, Kristen couldn’t see where he was, but as he continued to shout, she realized he was in the third story of a nearby apartment. “Mom! Mom, look—it’s the Steel Dragon. It’s Kristen Hall. Hiiii, Steel Dragon!” the boy shouted. He must have been about eight or nine. “Can I have your autograph? I read all about your battle with that shadow dragon guy. You’re the best! Mommy look.”
The only adult response was the sound of the mother trying to get the boy to close the window to keep the cold out. Her child squawked in disappointment, indignant that his mom didn’t want her young child associating with a dragon. “But Mo-om, we were going to be friends!”
The window closed, and Kristen picked her duffle up. It wasn’t soaked through completely. Maybe by the time she reached the base, the stuff inside would be dry.
That, of course, proved to be wishful thinking.
She leapt upward, caught herself with her wings, and was airborne once more. This time, though, she held her bag a little more carefully.
As she flew the rest of the way to the location Stonequest had shown her a few days before, she let her mind wander instead of indulging in more flying tricks.
Even though she hadn’t even started her new assignment yet, she already badly missed her old team. Still, she knew that she wasn’t leaving them behind forever. She might be a dragon but she would always think of herself as human, and humans needed human friends. Besides, at the very least, she’d want to vent to all her friends about the dragons. She had no doubt she would inevitably make serious gaffs when it came to dragon culture. Most dragons were centuries old. That gave them more than enough time to learn etiquette and all things dragon-related. Most of them still found riding in an automobile to be a real novelty. She had no doubt that she’d manage to offend them in ways she never could with her human friends.
Still, even if she already missed them, Kristen was excited to work for Dragon SWAT. She had loved being part of the Detroit Police Department’s most elite force, but once she’d activated her steel skin, it had become quite obvious that she was in a different league than her teammates. Even without her dragon form, she was faster, stronger, and had keener senses. Added to this was aura, which allowed her to not only make humans feel what she wanted them to feel but could also give her a window into the emotional state of those around her, although she was still learning how to do all that.
With this promotion—or reassignment or whatever you called it when you left humans behind to join dragons—she’d go from being the big fish in a small pond to merely another dragon. Kristen was certain there would be struggles, but she was excited by the potential to learn from other dragons in a way she simply couldn’t from other people. Hopefully, there’d be far less bureaucracy. Captain Hansen had been a little obsessive when it came to paperwork.
She finally saw the base. It was located in the Capital Square Building, which was actually quite close to her old police station. The six-story structure was built of red brick on a corner where Griswold, Shelby, and Grand River all crossed. She must have driven past it a hundred times but had never known until a few days before that it housed a force of dragons tasked with keeping much of the Midwest free of dragon-caused conflict.
Her journey at an end, she landed on the sidewalk in front—and wondered briefly if most dragons landed on the roof instead—and transformed.
Changing bodies was still a new experience for her, and she found the process intoxicating. Unlike putting on her steel skin, transforming from dragon to human took a few moments, and she reveled in them.
First, her wings faded and shattered into a thousand tiny shards of silver that seemed to blow away in a gust of winter wind. Her tail followed and her long neck and arms simply seemed to combust into a shower of sparkling motes. Kristen knew it was actually more complicated than this. She didn’t shed mass each time she transformed—instead, magic tucked her dragon body away into some other pocket of space—but in doing so, it made the world around her look like she’d dropped a glitter bomb on it.
Other dragons could control their transformations, but she had yet to learn that particular skill, not that she was sure she wanted to. The storm of silver sparkles that filled the space around her human body raced abruptly toward her and vanished, leaving her on the sidewalk, fully clothed in winter gear and smiling like a fool. It was something she didn’t think would ever get old.
It turned out those inside the Capital Square Building felt quite differently.
“You know, we try to keep a low profile here,” the dragon working the front desk said. He was in his human form and wore a slate-gray, checkered suit and a hat that might’ve gone out of fashion eighty years before. Kristen could tell he was a dragon because she could sense his aura. It was tinged with impatience and annoyance but mostly boredom. She could relate to the first feeling, but she didn’t understand how any dragon could feel bored when one could simply walk outside and take to the sky.
“Sorry. It’s my first day. I’m Kristen Hall, the Steel Dr—”
“I know who you are. If you’ll kindly fill out this paperwork while you wait, that’d be fine,” he replied in a nasal voice. She stifled a laugh. For some reason, a dragon having a nasal voice was simply too funny.
“I’m glad paperwork amuses you.” The dragon thrust the clipboard closer to her. “Now, if you please.”
“Sorry. It’s only that I didn’t expect paperwork. It seems like something that’s so human.”
“Contrary to popular belief, dragons don’t exist outside of human culture. We see the value in various human endeavors. Many dragons love human music, for example, and structures like this human-constructed building have always fascinated us. Paper and all its uses are merely other things dragons recognize the utility of. Will there be anything else?”
Kristen shook her head, took the clipboard, and tried not to feel embarrassed. Hiding one’s laughter wasn’t enough for dragons. They could read emotions as easily as humans could read faces. She would have to make more of an effort to control her feelings. Already, she could see why so many of the dragons she’d met had seemed so distant. It would be stressful to always have to guard oneself against strong feelings to avoid the risk of betraying your thoughts.
She sat in the lobby, which was hopelessly pedestrian. Uncomfortable chairs, a bland coffee table, and two ailing potted plants�
�already looking like they felt the cold—filled the room. She sighed and poured over the paperwork.
There were the usual questions like address, emergency contacts—although, oddly, no spaces for email—work history, and that kind of thing. Some parts of the form made her giggle. Instead of a section asking for a doctor’s contact information, there was a space about contacting a mage. Rather than a phone number, she was supposed to draw the mage’s sigil and made a note to ask Stonequest about that. She was also supposed to list any holdings she had. That too was kind of weird. Kristen didn’t even own her apartment, let alone an estate. She wondered if she was the least wealthy dragon inside the entire building.
When she reached the section for family history, she simply skipped it. She would forever think of her parents as Frank and Martha Hall, but she knew the dragons would find that confusing or worse. She did note, however, that the section on family history was long. Apparently, it was rather important to dragon kind.