Chapter 21: Bite the Big Apple
Sam hated sleeping. He would rather down a couple of pots of coffee and take some of those caffeine pills to stay awake and on the road. Every mile was a mile closer to Dean, he told himself. Bobby, however, had other ideas. He was slow and cautious, and driving Sam nuts.
So here they were, in another nameless, faceless motel. Bobby was stretched out on top of the comforter of the far bed, fully clothed with his hat pulled down over his face. A glance at the clock told Sam the sun would be coming up in a few hours. He pulled on a sweatshirt to battle the chill in the air before moving over to turn on his laptop.
It whirred to life, screen glowing brightly in the otherwise dark room. Dean would find a way of bitching him out for not turning on a light, or not sleeping, while pretending to be asleep. Bobby didn't even stir. Missing his big brother acting like an overbearing jerk more than ever, Sam connected to the internet using his satellite uplink. He opened a search window for some fresh dragon research.
The very first search hit was a New York Post headline, "Dragon Bites Big Apple." Stomach twisting into knots and with a deep sense of dread, Sam clicked on the link to the Post article. Five people, three men and two women, had been murdered in an upscale New York apartment building elevator. Two of them had their necks broken and the heads turned around backwards. The other three had been twisted into pretzel shapes, every bone broken in their bodies. A large dragon symbol had been somehow etched in the back of the elevator.
"Oh, God, Dean," he breathed out.
Bobby stirred in the far bed, but Sam couldn't spare any attention for the older hunter, his gaze still riveted to the screen. Soon a heavy hand clutched his shoulder and Sam jerked at the touch, but it remained.
"So it's a dragon with a mission." Bobby leaned over Sam's shoulder, pointing out there were five bodies. "I'm guessing this one has a grudge and Dean's helping him out." The hand on his shoulder squeezed tightly. "Got an idea, Sam. Maybe we don't need to find Dean, maybe we just need to find ourselves another dragon."
Sam looked over his shoulder in disbelief at the small smile on Bobby's face. Old dude was losing it.
Dean held the door open for Nancy at their hotel. This place cost more per night than Dean could scam in a year, but it wasn't like they couldn't afford it. Well, Nu-Kua could at any rate, with all the jewels she had now.
"I want to wear the necklace next time," Nancy told him with a grin as they sauntered through the ritzy lobby.
"Might tip 'em off," Dean argued, nodding at the dude who was supposed to be helpful. They called him a con-something-or-other. Whatever. Dean had asked him a favor before they left and wondered if the dude had managed it. Helpful Dude smiled and threw Dean a small salute, which Dean took as a sign of success.
"What was that all about?" Nancy demanded as they entered the elevator.
Dean might never think of an elevator the same again. He pulled her against him as the doors closed. "You'll see," he whispered in her ear as Nancy giggled.
"Dean!" She squirmed in his arms until he had to release her. "What are you up to?" Nancy would appear more imposing without the excited, child-like grin.
Dean grinned back. If the dude downstairs screwed this up, hotel management would need to put out a want ad. Nobody was going to get away with disappointing Nancy, ever again. Not if he could help it.
The elevator doors opened and Nancy dashed out. She held back from opening the door to their room, looking to him. Dean reached out with his mind to scan their room, which took up about half this entire floor. It was empty and their mate's surprise was ready.
His smile broadening, Dean waved his hand at the door and it opened for her. Nance gave him a sultry look as she walked past and his heart-rate picked up. Damn. Was it like this for all married people?
Only for the fortunate, Draco informed him. I have ridden with many who were not.
Sucks to be them, Dean replied as they rounded the entryway into the main room, where the surprise was. Nancy squealed with delight when she saw the rack of expensive clothing.
"What's this?" she demanded, making a bee-line for the rack. "Dean!"
He chuckled at her enthusiasm. "All for you, baby," Dean assured her, falling onto the expansive sofa to watch.
Nancy's face lit up as she pawed through the dresses and suits. She found a simple black dress and her eyes sparkled. "Close your eyes," she ordered.
Dean grinned as he rested one hand over his eyes. He listened to the rustle of fabric, knowing she was stripping down only a few feet away to try it on. Dean tried peeking through his fingers, but they slammed closed.
C'mon, Draco, Dean argued. It's nothin' I haven't seen before.
We have our orders, Dean, Draco told him. Besides, you've seen it before.
Dean groaned, not being allowed to look just killing him. "When can I see?" he whined.
Nancy's light, happy laugh reached his ears. "Just a minute. I need to grab something from the bedroom. Keep your eyes closed!"
Dean tracked her movements with his mind.
Do you worry about our mate? Draco asked.
Constantly, Dean replied, his hand still clamped over his eyes. I'd feel better if she had stayed here.
We are a good team, Draco argued. We are stronger together.
Yeah, Dean had to admit. It's pretty sweet watching her in action.
"Babe?" Nancy's sultry voice fell on his ears like sweet music. "You can open your eyes now."
Draco released his hand, allowing Dean to lower it. Nancy stood before him in a sleek black dress, low v-cut in the front covering just enough to for Dean to feel comfortable with her wearing it in public. The straight black skirt hit just above her knee except over her left thigh, where it was split right up to her waist and overlapped from both sides, intriguing but again still suitable. The dragon necklace adorned her neck, the black dress and her smooth skin setting it off perfectly.
"We should go out," he whispered as his eyes roved over her figure.
Nancy beamed at him. "Why?"
Dean stood slowly, one hand reaching out to gently stroke up her arm to her shoulder. "To make the rest of the city jealous." When she quirked an eyebrow at him, Dean went on to explain, "The women'll be jealous because they're not you, and the men because they're not with you." He chuckled. "And some of the women for both reasons."
Nancy gave him a stern look and slap on his chest, which made him smile wider. "So?" Dean asked. "Want to go out or not?"
Nancy grinned as her arms wrapped around his neck. "Sure, baby." She pressed her body against his. "But are you wearing that?"
"What's wrong with it?" Dean demanded playfully, wrapping his arms around her. He'd rather not leave the room, if he had to be honest, but they needed to do more than just sex. He also wanted to prove he could go out and keep his eyes on her the whole time. In that dress, Dean doubted he would have a problem.
"Well, it's covered with blood, for one," Nance replied, pulling away with her nose wrinkled.
Dean looked down. It was true, his nice new suit had blood splatters down the front. Crap. Again?
"Guess I better not send it out to be cleaned, huh?" he asked with a wink. Nancy rolled her eyes at him. She stepped back and nodded. With a shrug, Dean caused the fire to climb up his body, burning away the expensive suit. Within moments he wore nothing but the black boxers and some fine gray ash. He brushed it off. "Okay, baby. What do I wear?"
All week the Post's headlines had screamed about the Dragon Slayer leaving his mark. So far there had been seven deaths, at least three of which had been their kind. Nidhug knew the symbol, it had finally been released to the press after the second attack. It was the sigil of Draconêdismos Vermithrax. He had once been allies with the great dragon, back in the day when their kind had ruled the world. Later, after they had been reduced to a demonic state, his old ally had fallen into disfavor with many of the others. Nidhug had abandoned his ally, choosing to part company rather than remain allied with an outcast. No doubt his actions would cause his name to be on the mighty dragon's list.
How had the former mighty dragon once again come into such power? Three dragons, all of whom had been tormentors of Draconêdismos Vermithrax, were dead. Their heads had been twisted around backwards. It confused the media, but human memory was short. Even humans had once employed the technique to brand traitors. Nidhug figured his life expectancy was short, but he was determined to change his fate.
The killings appeared random, but again Nidhug had information the media and law enforcement did not. They were pointed, simple, and each one took place in the dragon's home. Where it should be safe. Both attacks had occurred during the day. The followers of the dragons had been severely punished for choosing bad allegiances, their bodies twisted brutally until death had been a mercy. Draconêdismos had always been careful and cautious, but these acts were bold, brazen, perhaps even risky. The old dragon had found someone capable of carrying out his vengeance, and that someone was quite good. The police had no leads other than the dragon sigil.
Nidhug waited in an outdoor cafe which faced a nightclub certain to attract Draconêdismos, assuming he had found a suitable vessel for his mate, Nu-Kua. It was no secret the old dragon doted on his mate, to the point of foolishness. At some point he would want to treat her to a night out in style. The Inferno, an upscale and exclusive nightclub and restaurant, seemed perfect. Nidhug would come here every night if he had to, but he would find Draconêdismos Vermithrax and Nu-Kua. He had to offer his allegiance before they came for him. At least this way, if his allegiance was not accepted, his death should be quick.
According to the papers, the last attack on a couple in their own dining room had been vicious. The neighbors reported hearing screaming for twenty minutes before the police arrived. Once again there had been no evidence of the perpetrators except for the dragon sigil. The man had been turned into a human pretzel, apparently while the woman watched. Then her head had been twisted backwards, snapping her neck. He figured the dragon had been dead before its host, if the heavy gray smoke and smell of sulfur in the room was accurately reported. Nidhug hoped to at least spare his human companions the same fate.
A man and woman walked slowly down the sidewalk. Most patrons of The Inferno arrived in chauffeured cars or limos, not by foot. Despite the fact it was after sunset, they both wore dark shades. It was warm out this evening, so neither had a jacket. As they passed him, on the opposite side of the street, Nidhug was able to see the woman's back. Her sleek black dress was open in the back, exposing her entire back except for two spaghetti thin straps, all the way down to an elegant v shape at her tailbone. Nidhug might have whistled, except the exposure revealed the majestic black sigil of Nu-Kua.
His eyes snapped to the man escorting her, wearing black slacks and a stylish shiny black shirt, perhaps silk. His hair was cropped short and he wore an easy smile for her. It had to be Draconêdismos Vermithrax. Nidhug watched the couple walk slowly to the front of the line, as if they owned the place. The man did not even spare a glance for the attractive women they passed. Definitely Draconêdismos. The gentleman standing at the front door with a clipboard smiled suddenly and held the door open for them.
Nidhug pulled out his cell phone. "Sarah, darling?" he said smoothly when his call was answered. "I need to be on the guestlist at The Inferno. Tonight."
He listened as his devout follower made the appropriate calls from another phone. She returned, breathless with anticipation, to tell him she had been successful.
"Care to join me?" Nidhug asked, eyes still pinned to the line across the street. "I think I found that old friend of mine I was telling you about."
She squealed before promising to meet him at the cafe in twenty minutes. Nidhug hoped it would be enough time for Draconêdismos to have at least ordered. His old ally could be a bit...grouchy...when he had not eaten.
Nidhug consumed several cups of coffee while waiting for his human female to arrive. At least she was punctual. Twenty minutes later, on the dot, a cab pulled up in front of the cafe and Sarah stepped out. She waved excitedly to him. Nidhug dropped a few dollars on the table before joining her.
They crossed the street together, by-passing the line to announce they were on the list. The human door attendant checked the list before allowing them entry. Nidhug remembered a time when he had such attendants preventing entry to individuals he did not wish to see. Ah, the good old days.
He and Sarah were escorted to a small table against the far wall. They had to sit next to each other with their backs against the wall. It was not the best table in the house, but Nidhug had learned over the past few centuries to accept the favors he could still get, besides, this position was defensible. Through his own dark shades, he scanned the restaurant area looking for the couple he had spotted outside.
"You too?" The sudden appearance of the waiter startled him. Nidhug's hand flashed out, ready to annihilate the interloper, but Sarah stilled his hand.
"Excuse me?" she asked sweetly, guiding his hand down to her thigh. He allowed his hand to rest there, gently kneading the soft flesh while he silently berated himself for being so jumpy.
The waiter gave him an odd look as the boy motioned to Nidhug's shades. "The sunglasses. There's a couple over there," he flapped a hand at the far left side, "who are both wearing them. She's a knock-out, though. You should see her tat!" He whistled through his teeth.
Sarah gave him a questioning look, to which Nidhug nodded. "Do you know if they're still there?" she asked sweetly, as only Sarah could.
The waiter nodded. "Sure, if they're not on the dance floor. Why? You know them?" He leaned over their table with interest. "See, me and the other waiters have a pool going. Some of the guys think they're big in Hollywood, somebody said diplomats. I think they're just stinkin' rich. Well?"
Nidhug nodded thoughtfully. "You're not far off."
He pumped a fist in the air before getting back down to work. "Your drink order?"
After the waiter walked away to place their drink order, Sarah leaned in to him. "When, master?"
He took a deep breath. "Now. Before I lose my nerve."
Sarah gave him a startled look. "Is this one so dangerous? Surely no match for you, sir."
Nidhug smiled at her naiveté. He swiped his thumb across her cheek, unable to resist showing his affection, even at a time like this. "There are two of them, and only one of me. I'm afraid I'm outmatched. And if the paper is right, outclassed as well. You should stay here. If I'm not successful, they might not be able to scent you out in this crowd."
Sarah's brow furrowed, which always looked cute on a human female. "Why would they scent me?"
His hand dropped to her thigh again. "They will be able to find my scent on you. I don't want you punished because of me, like the others."
"The others?" her voice rose to a high pitch. "You mean..."
Nidhug clamped a hand over her mouth before she drew attention to them. "Yes," he hissed in her ear. "The human pretzels." He lowered his hand slowly. Sarah was pale, but no longer loud.
Nihug started to move away, but Sarah crowded close to him. "Where you go, I go," she whispered, determination setting in her face. "Master."
He shrugged, allowing her to follow. Nidhug doubted any of his other followers would be so willing to face the possibility of becoming a human pretzel. Sarah never ceased to amaze him. He allowed her to take his hand as they wove through the other tables. She tugged on his hand as his gaze searched the far side of the restaurant.
Nidhug turned to see what she wanted. Sarah's hand shook as she pointed toward the dance floor. The couple he sought were in the center. Their dancing bordered on requiring a no children under seventeen rating, but it was mesmerizing. Nidhug found himself watching and unable to tear his eyes away. When the song stopped, the male offered his hand to lead the female off the floor. She took his hand, to scattered applause. They walked quickly off the floor, the male beaming at her the whole time. It was fortunate Nidhug had known them before, otherwise the sickly sweetness would turn his stomach.
He waited for the dragons to sit at their table, the human male holding out the female's chair. After they sat, the male nodded to him.
His stomach plummeted through the floor. They had been spotted. He had hoped to approach unknown; it would have been safer.
"Stay behind me," Nidhug whispered to Sarah. "Keep your gaze down. Show respect. Do not speak unless spoken to."
He watched her nod, her brow furrowing again. Nidhug took the lead, walking directly up to the humans possessed by his dragon brethren. As he closed the distance between them, Nidhug saw the human female possessed a second brand, the brand of Draconêdismos on her right shoulder. Sarah had a similar brand of his sigil but hers was open and proclaimed ownership, not bonding.
Draconêdismos and Nu-Kua had been bonded for millennia, however, their bonding did not require for the vessels to bond. Vessels were merely vessels, no more important than an automobile was for a human. Some vessels were better than others, obviously, but surely even Draconêdismos would have better sense than to...
Oh, Hell. A full bonding with a human meant neither dragon would be body-hopping, but it afforded them certain privileges, such as immunity to exorcisms. So much for Plan B. His followers were screwed if this didn't work.
Nidhug lowered his head when he reached the table. He approached on Draconêdismos' side, knowing approaching Nu-Kua even in a restaurant full of witnesses could mean only certain death.
"Permission to kneel," he requested when he was close enough to be heard. Nidhug kept his head down, though Draconêdismos took his time answering.
"Very well," came the deep, rumbling voice.
Nidhug dropped to his knees, uncaring if he caused a scene among the humans. They could create any story they wished to explain it. He wished he could remember exactly how Draconêdismos' voice sounded, so he would know if it were the dragon or human speaking. At least, Nidhug thought theoretically the human could have some control in a bonding. He could be wrong about that.
"Baby," the female said, one arm draping across the male's shoulders, "is that who I think it is?"
The male smiled, a cold and threatening action. "Yeah, I think so. Was he next, or further down the list?"
The female leaned on his shoulder with a matching cold smile. "I thought Nidhug was near the bottom, where he should be." She let out a chilling laugh, a golden glow behind her shades. "With the bottom-feeders."
"Don't you dare-"
Nidhug's head snapped to the side as he punished Sarah for her insolence, hoping it was in time to save her life. She gasped, one hand wrapping around her own throat. He released her before causing any permanent damage, though he hoped she would be unable to speak for the time being. She stumbled a step back before her hand dropped away from her throat. He looked anxiously at his kind, to see if they would spare her.
"Cute, isn't she?" the female said, running a finger down the male's arm.
He chuckled at her. "If you say so, baby," he replied. "I didn't notice."
She whispered in his ear and he nodded. "State your business, Nidhug."
Nidug resumed his submissive position. "I wish to beg forgiveness and to offer my allegiance."
He snorted. Snorted? Nidhug chanced a glance up, where the male sneered down at him. "Allegiance?" he scoffed. "You gotta be kidding. Baby, he is kidding?"
"Must be," she purred. "After the way his allegiance worked the last time, we'd kill him if he offered it again. Nu-Kua swears Nidhug isn't so stupid." Elbow propped on the table, she rested her chin in her palm. "Maybe it's a joke."
The male nodded seriously at her as Nidhug felt his possessed body's heart pounding painfully. "My fealty?" he offered, having nothing else of value.
"Fealty?" The male appeared to be thinking it over seriously. "Baby, what do you think of fealty?"
"Maybe," she said with a sigh. "If you want, babe."
"Do you want him?" he asked, leaning close to her. "You can have him if you want him."
Nidhug watched in horror as his fate was being discussed with no more importance than finding the salt shaker.
The female shook her head. "Sounds like too much trouble. Keep him if you want him." She waved a hand at him. "Kill him if you don't, but hurry up. Our food is coming."
The male wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He whispered in her ear again and she giggled. Nidhug reached back in his memory for a time Draconêdismos had appeared so happy, but he came up empty.
"All right," the male said with a chuckle as he turned from their private conversation. "Meet us outside after dinner." He waved Nidhug away. "Bring your follower with you. We'll talk."
Nidhug backed away, bumping into other patrons in the process but not daring to turn around until he had reached a respectful distance. Draconêdismos was old-fashioned, even for a dragon, totally hung up on respect. He wasn't going to blow this by doing anything stupid.