Hey there! Okay so I know I said I wasn't gonna write a sequel to Dragon Blood, but so many people asked for it that I just couldn't say no anymore, so here we are! Anyone who was unhappy with the end of Dragon Blood, congrats! Hopefully you like this continuation a little better. I actually really like how this turned out, and I've been really excited to share it with you all.
So, important fact: This is an AU, so to speak. In terms of this story, The Hunted and all of Season 2 of the series did NOT happen, just like in my last story (obviously, since this is a direct continuation of that). Also, as the summary says, this takes place about three years after the events in Dragon Blood, or one year after the Epilogue, and six years after the series timeline of Season 1. Don't worry, though, you won't forget that. I mention time and ages and whatnot enough throughout the story, haha.
And I know my writing style has changed a bit since I wrote Dragon Blood, but come on. I was sixteen when I started that story back in 2006, so what do you expect? Hopefully things have changed for the better, at least.
Here's a nice little prologue (which I love and had a bunch of fun writing, haha) to get you started and sort of introduce the plot. Enjoy!
Farley's was just as busy as it was every Thursday night, even after midnight. It was one of the few local bars in downtown Chicago that stayed open so late on weekdays, so it attracted all sorts of nighttime clientele. It was a good place, though – the sort that boasted more friendly regulars than the occasional quiet straggler, and its doors welcomed anyone who needed a few moments of peace away from their busy lives.
When the door creaked open to announce a new arrival, no one looked up from their drink or conversation. The man who entered brushed the rain off his coat and trudged toward the bar, where one lone bartender was rubbing a glass with a dish rag. When he reached the bar, the worker looked up and asked, "What'll it be?"
"House special," the man answered at once, having given the words countless times in the past.
The barkeep stopped wiping the glass and eyed the man carefully. "You got ID?" he said evenly. The man leaned forward onto the bar and lifted his hat just enough to uncover the sharp, pointed ears that his dark hair couldn't quite hide. The bartender's expression remained passive as he set down the glass and reached under the bar. He produced a small gold coin and set it on the surface, sliding it toward the elf. "Just down the hall," he said, jerking his head toward the back right corner of the room. The elf nodded and took the coin, before heading straight for the indicated doorway.
Beyond the open doorway was a short hall with three doors. The two against the right wall were restrooms, but the one to the left was guarded by two tall, broad men with hair that fell past their ears and noses, hiding their faces above the mouth. The elf strode up to them and tossed the gold coin into the air. The man on the left snatched it up and pushed his long hair aside, revealing one large eye in the center of his face. The eye examined the coin closely, before its owner pocketed it and nodded curtly to his fellow, who stepped aside and opened the door to allow the elf entrance.
The back room of Farley's was populated as it ever was with magical creatures of all shapes and sizes. It was one of the few places inside the city that was safe for beings like them, and had become a popular meeting place for friends from different walks of life. Keeping themselves secret from the outside world was difficult, and many times they needed places where they could go and relax. This was one of few such places.
"Davey, you're late!"
The elf glanced to his left at the sound of a familiar voice calling his name to see his two usual companions seated at a nearby table, both with drinks in front of them. "I see you started without me again, Pike," Davey observed with a grin as he strode over and seated himself in the empty chair at their table.
"Eh, we got tired of waitin'," Pike replied with a wave of his hand. "So what took you? Ain't you usually out of work by eleven?"
Davey ordered a drink from a nearby waitress with pointed ears and blue skin before turning back to his friends and answering, "I was on my way here when I heard some interestin' news."
"Interestin' news?" Pike repeated, eyebrows shooting up inquisitively. "What kind'a interestin' news?"
Davey waited until the waitress had set his drink down and moved away from their table before leaning in close and dropping his voice. "They're sayin' the Dark Dragon's back in power."
"The Dark Dragon?" the third of their party whispered, eyes wide. "I thought he was s'posed to be dead."
"You and me both," Davey admitted grimly. "But now there's rumors goin' 'round that he ain't so dead as we been led to believe. Word is he's layin' low, waitin' for the right time to show his'self."
"That dragon gives guys like us a bad name," Pike said with a scowl. "Last time he tried to take over the world we was this close to gettin' discovered." He held up his thumb and index finger for effect. "If we got any hope of livin' in peace, somebody's gotta stop him."
"But who?" the third elf wondered, scratching his head. "It was the last American Dragon that beat 'im before, and he ain't around no more."
"And the new one's still a bit wet behind the ears," Davey pointed out.
"Hey," Pike said suddenly, "what about the Red Hunter?" When his friends remained silent, he went on, "Think about it. She's already taken out scores o' Huntsclan goons, right? From the stories I've heard, she sounds unstoppable. She might have a chance o' takin' on the Dark Dragon."
"Who is the Red Hunter?"
All three elves jumped in surprise at the fourth, unfamiliar voice that broke into their hushed conversation. They turned to see a tall man in a long, black trench coat seated alone at the closest table, twisted around in his chair to look at them with an interested expression. "Forgive me for eavesdropping," he went on at the looks on their faces, "but I've heard these rumors of the Dark Dragon as well. When I heard your mention of him, I only wondered if there'd been any more news. So who's this Red Hunter?"
"You haven't heard the stories?" Pike asked incredulously, eyebrows raised.
When the man shook his head, Davey answered, "No one knows who she is or where she came from. She first showed up a couple years ago, and she's been poppin' up around the country ever since. She seems to be huntin' the Huntsclan, seein' as everywhere she's sighted we get word of one o' their hideouts bein' attacked. The kids in our neck o' the woods are callin' her a hero – she's even got her own magical fan club."
"Marv here actually saw her once," Pike offered, "didn't you, Marv?"
The third elf, Marv, nodded in agreement. "My village was attacked by a Huntsclan team a few months back," he explained in a low voice. "The Hunter showed up and took 'em all down, easy as weedin' a garden. Tell the truth, she was scary – dressed all in red with a hood coverin' her face. She stuck around to make sure we was all okay, then just like that she was gone."
"She's that powerful?" the man in the trench coat said, sounding surprised.
Pike nodded. "Some of us are thinkin' she might'a been a member o' the Huntsclan once, since she knows so much about 'em. But no one's ever gotten close enough to ask."
The man frowned, looking thoughtful. "I wonder if she's heard the rumors of the Dark Dragon," he said. "Maybe someone should ask her for help."
"Would if we could," Davey agreed, "but like I said, no one knows how to contact her."
"She does seem to know the American Dragon, though," Pike pointed out. "Maybe we could ask her?" Davey shrugged in reply.
"Hmm…" the man hummed, seeming deep in thought. "Well, if the Dark Dragon really is back, this Red Hunter may be our only hope." Suddenly he rose to his feet and straightened his coat, placing a hat over his short-cut, black hair. "Thanks for the information, friends. Maybe we'll get a chance to talk again sometime." The three elves waved goodbye as the man turned and strode toward the back door.
Once outside, the man buttoned his coat and turned on the sidewalk to see another man leaning casually against the building wall. "I should have known you'd follow me here, Gregory," the trench-coat-clad man said with a small smirk as he strode past the other and continued down the street.
"Nice to see you, too, Donovan," Gregory replied as he fell into step beside his companion. "Learn anything of interest?"
"The plan seems to be going along smoothly," Donovan replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. "…But there may be a potential snag. Tell me, have you heard of the Red Hunter?"
Gregory's eyebrows creased in thought. "Only rumors," he answered. "She's something of a vigilante in the magical world."
"I think I'd like to pay her a visit," Donovan mused, glancing toward the dark, cloudy sky as tiny pinpricks of rain fell against his face.
"Good luck," Gregory scoffed. "The Huntsclan's been after her for years and they've yet to pin her down."
"It just so happens I know of someone who may be able to help us," Donovan said, causing Gregory to turn sideways and raise an eyebrow. "A friend of hers, so to speak."
"Hmm… A friend, huh?" Gregory repeated with mild interest.
Already a plan was beginning to form in the back of Donovan's mind. "Pack a bag, Gregory," he said with a smirk. "We're going to New York City."
And we're rolling! FYI, this story is much shorter than Dragon Blood, so don't be expecting another freakishly long journey with me, haha. I already have it completely done and written, so no unplanned hiatuses, and it's only 8 chapters plus a prologue and epilogue (so 10 in all). But the chapters are all a bit longer, so I'm not really sure what the true comparison would be.
Anyway, drop me a review and let me know if you're along for the ride, and I'll get the first real chapter up sometime next week.
See ya soon!
-oMM
