Jak Koke - Stranger souls

"Drek for brains," Slaver said to Burnout, "get back here. Now."

The hatred hit, sending off little flares in Burnout's eyes. Tiny fireworks as he pivoted. The world seemed to click into slow motion around him. Recognition dawned on Slaver's face, but it was too late. Burnout crossed the distance between them in a fraction of a second, clicking his ankle spurs into position.

A spell went off just as Burnout kicked-a sweeping strike across the chest, diagonally up to one shoulder. A shock wave shook through him as the discharging spell threw him back. It felt as though a panzer had hit him. But the barb on his cyberspur had caught on Slaver's collar bone, lifting the mage's body into the air.

Blood spilled from the cut, pouring out like a river as Slaver mumbled spells to try and save himself. Burnout jerked his foot, trying to free the cyberspur, and as his foot came away, it ripped the bone with it, causing Slaver's neck to jerk with a sickening snap.

The drug tried to kick in just then, and Burnout knew it would hit. The chemical placator. In the seconds before he went placid, Burnout lifted the limp and mangled body of Slaver, then swung it in a wide, vicious arc. Slamming it against the unyielding surface of a large boulder.

There was blood everywhere, glistening red on the rocks. The satisfying crunch of bones inside Slaver's limp bag of skin came to Burnout's ears just as the drug hit. And with it came peace.

Next to him, La Sangre watched in fascination. He looked at Burnout. "Thank you for freeing me," he said. Then he disappeared.

Leaving Burnout alone. Content for the first time in as long as he could remember.

After a time, the yearning returned-his desire for the magic he felt in the compound below. And Burnout found himself on his feet, moving toward it, leaving the remains of his master behind for the scavengers.

Ryan jumped out of the helicopter, planting his feet squarely on the tarmac. He was tired, but it felt good to be done with a mission well accomplished. The Dragon Heart rested in the nylon web bag at his belt, a little uncomfortable. Too big, too heavy. He would have to get a safer place for it, but he didn't want it too far from him. I'll carry it for now, he thought.

Axler and Grind came behind, carrying McFaren's body. The mage's spirit had never returned, and Axler had finally resigned herself to his loss. It was too bad. McFaren had been an excellent mage and a good runner.

The sun was setting now, painting the sky red and orange in the west. The mountain peaks above the compound turned the color of autumn leaves in the sunset as Ryan made his way to the hangar. As he walked, he tried to decide how to proceed. After his phone conversation with Jane in the helicopter, the other runners had grown distant and suspicious. The remainder of their trip back to Assets had been silent and tense.

Ryan didn't give a frag. After all, he owned them, didn't he? Assets was his now that Dunkelzahn was dead. They had no say.

It was all Lethe's fault for talking to Jane. Ryan distrusted the spirit now. Lethe wanted the Dragon Heart for himself. He didn't understand its power, didn't realize how Ryan could use it to build an army, use it to fight whatever enemies Dunkelzahn had. Ryan's father, in his Roxborough past, had taught him well; never subvert an opportunity because of sentiment. Ryan would never make that mistake again.

The hot wind blew the smell of pine and sage up the

canyon wall, and Ryan caught the sound of an aircraft approaching. Sounded like a jet, tilt wing. VTOL. What theThe machine crested the rim of the cliff, flying past the compound with a subsonic roar. Ryan ducked inside the hangar door, watching from grease-smelling shadows as the jet slowed and hovered fifty meters out over the edge of the canyon. The jet slowly eased over the airstrip and dropped to its wheels.

The machine had no official logos or other identifying marks, but Ryan got the certain sense that this was a corporate visit. Axler and Grind appeared at Ryan's shoulder. They carried no weapons and didn't seemed concerned in the least. "Looks like you've got a visitor, Ryan," Axler said coldly. "Nadja Daviar."

Nadja? What is she doing here?

The answer occurred to him then. She's here to try to persuade me to complete Dunkelzahn's mission. What else could it be? Transparent slitch! Did Lethe talk to her? Or Jane?

Abruptly, Ryan decided to leave. Now, before she could talk to him, before he saw her beautiful face. Before he heard her mesmerizing voice. The power of the Dragon Heart coursed through him as he broke into a run, making for the helicopter. Dhin was still inside the vehicle, checking out the systems, cleaning out the interior.

Ryan moved fast, a dark blur across the concrete. The jet was between him and the helo, and as Ryan ran, security personnel in dark suits came down the short stairs, cutting off his path.

Ryan slowed when Nadja emerged from the jet. Her black hair shone in the last light of the setting sun, a crimson tint to its ebony. She wore it down, like dark rain to her waist. She smiled at him, mistaking his run for the helicopter as urgency to see her. Or else faking her delight extremely well.

Ryan drew himself up and walked to her. He would not let his emotions get in the way. Father had taught him that. Besides, this woman's love for him was no more than an ephemeral transience, a momentary sentiment that would soon fade like the sunlight. "Nadja," he said. "What brings you all the way out here?"

Nadja stood her ground, surrounded by seven security, at

least one of whom was a mage. "I heard that you've abandoned Dunkelzahn's mission," she said, and there was such sadness in her voice that his knees threatened to weaken.

Ryan centered himself, focusing on the situation. He could take four or five of the guards, he was sure. But not all of them. One was a troll and might take too long to put down. The others-four humans and two dwarfs who looked like twins in their secret service suits and shades-would go down easily if there weren't so many. "I've changed," he said. "Become stronger. I'm no longer Dunkelzahn's lackey."

"Master had an intricate and detailed plan," Nadja said. "I know a great deal about it, but not everything. He entrusted you with this mission, even told you it was the most important one of your life. You remember that, don't you?"

"Dunkelzahn is dead."

"Yes," Nadja said. "And we must honor his sacrifice by carrying out his wishes."

"I intend to keep fighting for him," Ryan said. "But on my own terms. I won't be his servant boy any longer."

"Ryan, please…"

"Step aside, Nadja," Ryan said. "Let me go. I just need to sort some things out."

"I can't do that," she said. "I can't let you leave with the Dragon Heart."

"My missions are my own to complete as I see fit," Ryan said, his voice rising. "And I can't allow you to interfere!" He was shouting at her now, all pretense of civility stripped away. "Wasn't that part of our arrangement all along? Wasn't that why you despised my relationship with Dunkelzahn? Because it was more important than my relationship with you!" He spat the words at her, vehemently.

"Ryan…" Nadja was shaken by his outburst, but he knew she was trying not to show it. "This is different. You endanger the entire world by disregarding your mission."

"Fuck you! You just want the Dragon Heart for yourself."

"You know that's not-"

"Get out of my way!" Ryan took a step, angling around the knot of security.

They shifted to block his path, drawing weapons. Seven pistols aimed at him.

"They won't let you go, Ryan," Nadja said. "Not until you give up the Dragon Heart."

Ryan's awareness grew hypersensitive. The helo sat only ten meters away, just behind Nadja and the security agents. The jet was on his right, but there were more sec guards there. Nadja herself was two steps away; he tried not to see the concern on her features. He tried to harden himself to that. She was the enemy now.