Prologue
The white dragon crashed into the shallows of the Detroit River like a meteor. The dark water exploded when she hit, flinging rocks and sticky mud high into the air as her huge body plowed up the waterway’s Canadian bank before finally coming to a rest against the rotting hull of a long-forgotten tour boat. The stinking mud she’d sent flying landed on top of her a few seconds later, hitting her broken scales in a staccato patter of soft, wet slaps.
Ow.
Chest heaving, the dragoness known as White Snake, youngest daughter of the previous Great Yong of Korea and dragon of nowhere in particular, cracked open her glittering eyes. Across the churning water, the skyline of the DFZ was still undulating angrily, its elevated roads twisting like vines around the place where her hateful brother and his human pet had vanished. No, not vanished. The city had eaten them. Snatched the bleeding dragon right out of the sky. Right out of her claws.
White Snake had no idea what Yong had paid to get the god of the city on his side or how he’d done it, but it was most definitely done. With one well-hurled truck, the DFZ had smashed the victory White Snake had given everything to obtain. It had taken centuries of patient waiting to find a flaw in her brother’s control, years of watching and biding her time before the Great Yong had made a mistake great enough to give her a chance. She’d planned the events of these last few weeks down to the second, mortgaged her resources and connections down to the hilt to bring it all together. And now, in the space of an instant, it was over. Smashed, wasted, ruined. Her greatest plan, her chance of a lifetime, gone forever. And if she didn’t do something about this bleeding soon, she would be too.
Groaning, White Snake closed her eyes and tried to push herself up, “tried” being the operative word. Great Fire, that city hit hard. Even with the river to cushion her fall, it felt as if every bone in her body had been shattered. The only positive she could see in her current situation was that at least she’d landed on the Canadian side of the river, outside the city limits where the DFZ couldn’t reach to finish the job.
That was lucky, she supposed, but the city wasn’t the only—or even the most dangerous—thing she had to worry about right now. As a small dragon with no clan to back her up, White Snake had always taken care never to make enemies, but there were no politics in the world good enough to save a downed dragon. A predator that could no longer defend itself was everyone’s prey, and the DFZ had slapped her out of the sky in front of the entire world. It was only a matter of time before another dragon showed up to take her fire as its own. If she wanted to live, she had to move.
Growling deep in her throat, White Snake dug her broken claws into the mud. Move, she ordered herself. Move, weakling, or you’re dead. They will eat your flesh, scales, and bones. They will steal your fire until you’re left without even a ghost. Move.
But she did not move. No matter how she struggled or how fiercely she clawed the sucking mud, her mangled body did not budge. When she collapsed panting back into the bloody water, the truth of her situation hit her like a second truck to the face. She was going to die here. Die alone in the dark, in mud that smelled of dead fish, on an alien shore, without ever seeing her beloved homeland again.
Roaring at the loss, White Snake surged upward. Pushing with all her fear-driven strength, she managed to pry herself a few feet up the bank. She was about to try again when she heard the unmistakable sound of a truck rolling to a stop on the road above her, followed by the pounding of booted human feet.
No.
White Snake began to thrash wildly. This was it. They’d come for her. She didn’t know who “they” were yet, but only another dragon could have moved so quickly. She had to get out of here before their mortals cornered her. Had to run before their teeth found her exposed throat and—
Her panicked thoughts froze as the wind shifted, bringing the smell of gunmetal and plastic and human, but not dragon. But while she didn’t scent another of her own kind, she did smell blood. That wasn’t unusual when dealing with humans, but the amount she scented now was absurd. The stench rolling down the bank was enough to fill the river. Human blood, animal blood, magical blood, more blood than she’d seen spilled in all her life put together. The sheer scope of it overwhelmed her pain-addled brain, leaving her dizzy and confused for several moments. A critical several moments, it turned out.
“Hello, lovely.”
White Snake bared her teeth. She’d only heard one truck stop, but there must have been several, because when she looked up, the riverbank was crowded with humans in black armor pointing weapons at her face. But the mortals weren’t what concerned her. Her attention was locked on the man standing behind them. The surprisingly normal-looking, middle-aged man in an expensive suit who was the source of all that blood.
“You are the one they call White Snake, yes?”
White Snake took a breath in reply, sparks popping around her mouth as she prepared to drown these fools in fire. She didn’t know what the man was, but no one who smelled of that much blood was good news. But as the first licks of flame climbed in her throat, the bloody man lifted his hand.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said, reaching out to tap his fingers against the barrel of the huge gun the armored soldier next to him was pointing at White Snake’s snout. “These aren’t ordinary weapons. They’re anti-dragon guns. A bit of a specialty firearm, but in a city this infested with dragons, it seemed a smart purchase. Not that I ever expected a treasure like you to fall out of the sky, but that’s the joy of being prepared.” He grinned. “Victory always favors you.”
White Snake growled deep in her throat, but she swallowed her fire. Now that he’d drawn her attention to it, she could indeed see that the guns pointed at her were much bigger than usual, their huge barrels stamped with an A surrounded by cresting waves. The Lady of the Great Lakes hadn’t been seen above water since the Spirit of the DFZ defeated her twenty years ago, but every dragon with a brain still recognized the symbol of Algonquin’s dragon hunters. It could still have been a bluff, but White Snake was in no position to call it. If a lifetime in exile had taught her anything, it was never to gamble what you couldn’t afford to lose.
With that, the last of her flames snuffed out, and the man’s smile widened. “That’s better,” he said in a deep, pleased voice. “Now we can negotiate.”
“It’s not much of a negotiation if one of us is talking at gunpoint,” White Snake said, eyeing the armored humans, who had yet to lower their weapons. “But you don’t look like one who values fairness.”
“Quite the contrary,” the blood-smelling man said. “There’s nothing I love better than a fair fight. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I’d like to offer you a job.”
White Snake couldn’t have heard that right. “Do I look like I need a job?”
“You look like you need a lot of things,” the man replied, his dark eyes gleaming in the reflected light of the city across the water. “Fortunately for you, I can offer most of them. I can protect you from the rest of your kind. From your brother’s wrath. Protect you even from the spirit of the city herself. I can shelter you in your weakness until you are strong enough to stand on your own once more, and all I ask in return is a few evenings of your time.”