Terran took a deep breath and sighed. He had been standing in the same spot for at least an hour—or what felt like an hour. Without a watch, he had no real way of knowing. For all he knew it had only been ten minutes. But it damn sure felt like he had been left waiting for a really long time.

He stood from the wall he was leaning on for who knew how long and stretched, his joints popping as he reached for the ceiling. Now that the blood had begun flowing through his limbs again, he began pacing in circles around the narrow hall to keep from becoming stiff again. The short walk would do him good anyway; the poorly lit hall was very cold, and the silent, lonesome atmosphere of the place gave him the creeps. Every now and again, he heard a faint sound: growling or moaning. Every time he heard it, it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Maybe they were planning to set him up. It wouldn’t be the first time a client tried to stab him in the back to avoid paying for the job. His hand instinctively curled around the custom-made pistol at his side.

He took one look around the hall to plan his escape route in case the worst did occur. The stone and metal walls were void of any decoration or structural weaknesses he could exploit.  Every few feet there was a square window. Unfortunately, the windows were covered in thick metal bars and he had no way of removing them. The hall itself was wide enough for three large men to walk side-by-side. That was good. It gave him room to maneuver since he was guaranteed to be outnumbered. He noted two doors in the long hallway before the sharp right-angle turns at either end. Once he got past those there was only one avenue of approach.

Something on the bars of the nearest window caught his interest. It glinted in what little sunlight beamed through the frost-covered panes. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the bars were slightly bent as if someone tried to pull them apart, making his heart race. He was not a small man or a weak one by anyone’s standards, yet even he would have a hard time bending those bars without tools. He leaned in closer, spotting something jammed between the bars and the wall. After making sure no one was coming, he plucked the object and examined it in the light shining through the window.

It took a minute before he realized what it was. It was a dragon scale; a lime green dragon scale most likely from one of the species that live near forested regions. The edges of the scale were red and crusted.

“Mr. Mercer?” a toneless female voice asked.

Terran spun around, surprised by the sudden voice behind him. Given the length of the hall, it shocked him how he didn’t see or hear her approach. Thoughts of someone knocking him out and waking up tied to a table or hanging from the ceiling raced through his mind. He nodded to the woman to let her know he acknowledged her, but all of his senses were on alert.

“First, I would like to ask you to relinquish your grip on your firearm,” the woman said in the same toneless voice.

Terran continued his firm grip on his pistol and glanced over his shoulder to ensure no one was behind him. He didn’t like this woman; she had strange eyes. Her eyes were a deep shade of blue that bordered on purple. And her pupils were oval-shaped. He had never seen anyone with eyes like that; they reminded him of a snake’s eyes. But it wasn’t the color or the shape that worried him. What worried him was that they were lifeless. This woman wasn’t the least bit bothered by his appearance. He had to duck to enter most doors and his muscular build was enough to give anyone pause before approaching him. Still, this woman, this blonde, bone-rail thin woman stood before him, without the slightest form of emotion on her face.

Knowing it wouldn’t look right if he started shooting up the place because a woman half his size spooked him, he let his arm fall limp at his side.

The woman spun on her heel, her body moving with a type of litheness that could put the most graceful dancers to shame. It was as if she stood still and the very floor rotated to turn her around. “Follow me please.”

Terran slipped the dragon scale into his pocket and obeyed. He noted his surroundings as she led him further into the building just in case he needed to retrace his path in a hurry. In various spots on the walls, the metal was darker or he could see where a new sheet had been added; most likely to cover up a hole. Near the base of the walls there were deep claw marks made by very large claws. Looking at the scars sent a shiver up his spine. There was no mistaking it, those marks were made by dragon claws. And judging from those same marks, it was a dragon of considerable size. He couldn’t figure out which worried him more: meeting the dragon that made the marks or meeting what captured the beast.

Thinking about the scars on the walls brought to mind the dragon scale in his pocket. Did the scale belong to the dragon who made those marks? But what could possibly frighten a dragon? He forced the thoughts from his mind. He was already on edge and thinking about those kinds of things were not helping matters.

“We apologize for the wait,” the woman explained, making Terran jump again. He was grateful the woman couldn’t see his reaction. She continued to lead him through the halls without looking back. “It’s just the specimen you delivered to us is now deceased. We will require another.”

“What? You killed it? Do you know what I went through to bring that dragon in alive?”

The woman did not answer. All he saw was the woman’s blonde hair which was tied into such a taut bun it made no movement as she walked and the expertly manicured nails of her bony fingers. He felt as if he were following a ghost; if it weren’t for her lab coat billowing behind her, he would have sworn she wasn’t moving at all but rather floating down the hall. Only his footsteps echoed in the hall.

Finally, the woman approached a large metal door. It was twice as thick as any house door, but she opened it with ease and walked inside. Terran followed. The walls were lined with cabinets and counters, their polished surfaces reflecting the one light hanging from the ceiling. What caught his attention was the large metallic table in the room's center. The table was full of holes and thick leather straps hung from its sides.

The chill began to creep up his spine again along with the thought that this room was designed to keep whatever was brought here inside—no exceptions.

The woman pointed at the large suitcase sitting on the nearest counter. “I do understand the exceptional difficulties associated with dragon hunting. That is why you are still being compensated for your time. Your payment is inside the case.”

Terran glanced back at the door before approaching the case. Everything about the situation felt wrong; he half-expected someone to ambush him at any given moment. The moment he opened the case, the door would slam shut and his captors would take him.

He took a deep breath to calm down and realized his hands were trembling. He had dealt with these people before, and they always paid up. But the dragon scale in his pocket refused to leave his thoughts. If he were a religious man, he would be praying to never find out what happened to the dragons he brought here.

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he opened the case. The case contained a tray full of coins lined in rows. He slowly lifted the tray, revealing several more underneath. Even without counting, it was easy to tell they overpaid. He frowned. “Wait a sec, this looks like the full amount. I thought I wasn’t being paid until after the job was finished?”

The woman continued to stare at him with the same expressionless look on her face, making him grit his teeth. It felt was like dealing with a mannequin instead of a human being. “Mr. Mercer, while the first subject can no longer adequately serve as a specimen, we still thought it necessary to compensate you for your delivery. However, this payment is in no way related to the set amount agreed upon in your original contract.”

Terran snapped the case shut. “What?”

“She means that you should consider this ‘extra’ and not a part of the money we agreed to pay you,” said another calm voice behind him. This voice belonged to a man.

Maybe it was because he had grown accustomed already to the woman suddenly appearing and speaking that this one didn't scare him  Or maybe he was too focused on the case full of money to notice. Either way, he didn't flinch at the newcomer's sudden appearance. He turned to see a much older man standing in the doorway. The man was as pale as the white lab coat he wore, and his hair had all but abandoned the top of his head, leaving a band of white locks around his shining dome. The man removed his glasses and used his green plaid shirt to clean them.

“I want to thank you in person for the specimen you brought in,” the man said as he returned the spectacles to his face. Despite the congratulatory tone he used, his voice sounded cold, indifferent as if it was all just a formality. He looked at Terran with black eyes. Unlike the woman’s, his pupils were perfectly round but they still carried the same lifelessness hers did. 

“Unfortunately it regained consciousness and bit off its tongue,” the doctor continued. “I know what our original agreement stated, and I for one hate renegotiating a contract. That is the reason for the extra compensation. You are free to refuse our request and it will have no effect on our previous arrangement.”

Terran glanced back at the woman. She hadn’t moved or spoken since the man walked in. He felt a chill wash over him. These people were practically throwing money at him. Given the dangerous nature of the job, he wasn’t accepting anything less than top dollar, but they just pretty much doubled his payment and didn’t seem to care. Dealing with shysters was nothing new, but they usually make big promises and attempted to skimp out later. These people were paying upfront, no questions asked.

He grabbed the case of money and made for the door. “Yeah, I can do that,” he said slowly, “I still got the list, so the next time I find one of those scaly bastards, I’ll be sure to bring him in.”

The man’s arm shot out with unbelievable speed, blocking Terran’s path. Terran’s free hand flew to the pistol at his side when he saw someone walk past the room. He assumed the person was a man, but it was near impossible to tell. The “man” was even bigger than him. This behemoth of a human lumbered by without a glance. He something similar to an executioner’s hood, a clear apron over his clothes, and large dark gloves that covered his forearms. Terran noticed the gloves and the apron were covered in blood.

“Mr. Mercer if we intended to harm you, we would have already done so,” the doctor said in an almost cheerful voice.

Looking into the man’s insensate eyes drained all the strength from Terran’s arms and his hand fell to his side. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to smile and nod so he could get out of there as fast as possible. He had fought countless battles and hunted some of the most dangerous creatures on earth. He had seen things that could make grown men cry and shit themselves. Whatever these people were doing, he was certain it would give him nightmares. These were people he did not—under any circumstances—want to piss off.

“Yeah, okay, sure,” Terran said listlessly. He walked out of the room as if it was on fire.

He traced his path back to the entrance and breathed a sigh of relief as he pushed the large doors open. Despite the snow and wind blowing into his face, warmth returned to his body. He didn’t even bother to button his coat before setting off into the sea of white.

The blizzard made it impossible to see further than a few feet, but Terran had walked the path enough times that he could find his way. He was grateful for the snow and wind. Normally, he would have to walk in circles and constantly check his surroundings to ensure he wasn’t being followed. Thanks to the blizzard, people looking out of their windows couldn’t see a bird on their windowsill yet alone a lone man in the knee-deep snow. Anyone who could track him in this weather deserved to catch him.

The white veil eventually gave way to a large brick building. The old single-story building was meant to be an inn for dragons. Now it was his safehouse. He instinctively glanced over his shoulder to ensure he wasn’t being followed before approaching the oversized door and going inside.

Somewhere on the journey home, his body had remembered how freezing cold it was outside so the heat that washed over him was more than welcome. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness. It was the middle of the day, but the snow covering the windows blocked most of the light.

“Hey, I’m back,” he called out as he removed his coat.

The sound of heavy footsteps and clicking of claws could be heard before a large black dragon, roughly the size of a large horse, appeared in the doorway. Some dragons had two sets of colors: one of their underbellies and another for the rest of their bodies. This dragon was completely black, resembling a walking shadow. That one of his horns was missing made him look even more intimidating. The dragon scanned him with piercing yellow eyes.

Terran wasn’t afraid. He knew Maxis for years and the Nightstalker wouldn’t harm him without sufficient reason.

Maxis leaned forward and sniffed Terran before speaking in a low, raspy voice. “You’re back. Since you don’t reek of blood, I assume everything went okay?”

“Yeah, Maxis, everything was…fine,” Terran said, squeezing past the dragon to enter the main room of the building.

The room didn’t contain much: a few leather chairs that were well past their expiration date were scattered all over the room and a single square table took the room’s center. The walls contained no pictures or mirrors, just shelves and weapon racks filled with various sized rifles and knives. The fire roaring in the fireplace was the only source of light in the room.

Terran removed the belt which held the holster for his pistol and hunting knife and hung it on the first empty shelf he saw. He then threw the case onto the table and dropped into the sagging chair closest to the fireplace. “The last dragon we brought in, the silver horn-tail, it died, so they want us to bring in another one. The case on the table has our payment for catching an extra dragon.”

Maxis went to the table and used the claws on his wings to open the case. His eyes widened at the sight of the money inside. “Is the deal still on?”

“Yeah. The original deal is still on. That money is a bonus for adding another dragon to the list.”

Maxis closed the case and looked at him with a serious expression. “That settles it. We done with them. I know you’ve felt the same.”

Terran remained silent. Maxis walked over to his chair, sat on the floor, and lowered his voice. “I trust your judgment; it’s saved us a lot. We need the money, but I want the truth.”

The dragon already knew the answer to that question. Terran had a strong business sense that told them whether they should take a job or deal with certain clients. Anyone willing to pay to have a dragon hunted was dangerous, but they were used to dealing with dangerous people. These people struck him as the kind that should be avoided at all costs.

“Every time I go in there, I feel like there’s something going on that I don’t want to be a part of," Terran said. "But they also don’t seem that they’ll be happy if we try to back out.”

“We won’t be backing out,” Maxis said, “We’ll get this extra dragon for them and then tell them we’re done. They haven’t finished paying us, so it won't matter if we leave now.”

Terran wanted to argue that these people seemed like the type to get angry over broken deals, but arguing with a dragon was a losing proposition. Maxis was stubborn, even by dragon standards, and he wasn’t the type to back out of a contract. If he wanted to cut ties early, it must be serious.

Another set of footsteps—lighter ones—echoed throughout the room. Terran craned his neck to see Sasha entering from the hall. The woman untied her dark brown hair as she entered, letting it fall to her shoulders. Even in the firelight, bloodstains were visible on her orange blouse underneath the stained white coat on her shoulders. “Well, I’ve done all I can.”

Terran nodded. “How is she?”

“I won’t bore you with all the medical terminology that you won’t understand half of,” Sasha said, dropping into the chair opposite Terran’s. “I fished out the bullets—including one that was dangerously close to her heart, somehow managed to stop the bleeding and close the wounds as best I could, and convinced dear Maxis to give some blood.” Maxis frowned at her comment. Sasha winked at the Nightstalker and continued. “And I did all of this during a blizzard in a run-down, old, abandoned dragon inn with not even half the necessary medical tools and only the light of a fireplace and a single light bulb. I know I said this was supposed to make us even, but if she survives this, I expect to be paid royally.”

Terran fought the urge to roll his eyes at her. Sasha could be a bit much at times, but there weren’t many doctors who had the skill (or the courage) to operate on dragons. And with the snow swirling around outside, he had no room to be picky. “What about the girl?”

“The girl? Oh! The girl is fine. A few scrapes, but nothing serious. She still refuses to leave the room, though. I’m guessing she really likes that dragon.”

He nodded in silence. If it had been Maxis who had been injured, he would’ve been at the dragon’s side. “Thanks, Sasha. You said you’ve done all you can. Will she make it?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” she replied, taking off her blood-stained blouse. She fished in the bag next to her and pulled out a clean top and slipped it over her head. “She should be dead right now. It's a miracle she survived her injuries this long.”

“Dragons can be hard to kill,” Maxis stated.

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t make them invincible. Not even you, my sweet Nighstalker.”

Terran snorted into his hand. Of all the words to describe Maxis, "sweet" was not one of them.

The drake shot a dirty look at Terran. “Which still makes me wonder why we bothered to save her in the first place.” 

Terran turned his gaze to the fire and didn’t respond. He could still see the events from earlier that day play out as if they were happening before his eyes. When the young woman ran to them in the snow, half-frozen and covered in blood, begging them to help her. When she led them to the dragon lying in the snow, filled with bullet holes yet still somehow dragging her bleeding body through the blizzard. He was certain she was a goner. Given the light color of her scales, he was certain they would have missed her or mistook her for a lump of ice if not for all the blood. Something in the young woman’s voice told him to help her. It was still a miracle they were able to get her back to the safehouse and find someone who could patch her up before she bled to death.

He still couldn't understand what drove him to go outside in the first place. 

His focus was broken by Maxis' next question. “So what do you make of them?”

Sasha spoke first. “I think they’ve both had it rough. Two young females traveling the warehouse district alone? Only the desperate would do such a thing.”

“I don’t trust the dragon,” Maxis said. “I’ve never seen one with scales like hers.”

“Because of that, you don’t trust her?” Sasha asked.

“I don’t trust her because she went and got herself shot by humans,” Maxis returned firmly. “Whatever she did, she pissed off the wrong people. We don’t need that headache.”

“You know what—I’m tired. I think I’ll turn in for today.” Terran stood and started down the hall towards his room. They had that same argument nearly every day now. If the drake had his way, they would have left both females in the cold.

On his way down the hall, his eyes drifted toward the room at the far end of the hall. The door was ajar, and firelight seeped through the opening. He wondered if he should check on them before calling a night. Sasha said everything was fine, and he had no reason to doubt her. Against his judgment, he headed down the hall.

The room contained a single dirty mattress in the middle of the dust-covered floor and nothing else. On the mattress lay the dragon Sasha had treated. Most of the dragon’s body was covered in blood-stained bandages, the rest was bright blue scales that reminded him of the midday sky. In the glow of the fire, there was a certain mesmerizing beauty to her even while covered in bloody wrappings. He had traveled all over and saw many dragon species, but never had he seen a dragon with scales like hers before.

The mattress was too large for her which was a good thing since the young woman who enlisted their help lay next to her. The young woman had dark hair and pale skin and her face showed she was young. Too young by Terran’s estimate to be traveling alone. They both appeared to be sleeping, the young woman cradling the dragon’s head.

Terran turned to leave the room when he heard the girl's voice. “Is somethin wrong?”

He turned around to see the young woman awake and looking at him with a cold stare. She still cradled the dragon’s head like a fragile piece of glass.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” Terran said. He wasn’t bothered by her hostility. He silently praised her caution. It was a good sign the teen wasn’t completely stupid. “It just occurred to me that I never asked for your names.”

The young woman’s gaze softened a little. “I’m Janine,” she said. She motioned to the dragon next to her. “This is Snowflake.”

“Snowflake, huh?” Terran found the name odd, but he knew better than to judge. He once knew a drake named Twinkles. He was a brute of a Ravager covered in deep scars. The name was ridiculous, but gods help whoever made the mistake of laughing at it or asked where the name came from.

He broke out of his reverie and leaned against the wall near the door. “So what’s your story? I know you’ve been through a lot, but your friend was shot. I’d rather know now if there’s anyone out there looking for you.”

Janine stared at the flames the look in her eyes giving away the unpleasantness of the emotions rising within her. She eventually turned back to Terran and said, “No one’s lookin for us. The men who shot Snowflake, they left her to die. They likely think she’s dead.”

He nodded and remained silent. He wanted to ask what happened, but he also didn’t want to ask her to relive such a bad memory especially not when her friend was so close to death. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone. My room is just down the hall if you need anything.” He left before Janine could reply.

His room looked no different from the others; the only difference was his mattress sat on a wire bedframe instead of the floor. It was all he needed. They traveled too much to bother with settling down. Between law-enforcement, rival groups, and just the dangerous nature of the job, staying in one place for an extended period of time was never an option.

He flopped onto his bed without bothering to change his clothes. Before he could close his eyes, the sound of claws clicking on the floor distracted him.

Terran sighed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. It had to be Maxis; the nightstalker was the only dragon in the building capable of walking around. “What is it?” Terran asked.

“Just wondering why you bothered to save her. It’s not like you to be so soft. You saw just as I did she’s a lost cause. She’ll be dead by morning.”

“The dragon maybe, but the girl would’ve froze to death if we hadn’t helped her and she wasn’t leaving the dragon behind.”

“Then you should’ve let her freeze.”

Terran didn’t reply. He didn’t tell Maxis or Sasha the real reason behind his chivalrous act. He couldn’t quite explain it himself.

He shouldn’t have been out there to begin with. The blizzard alone was reason enough not to go outside, and the gunshots only supported the idea to remain indoors. But he had heard a voice calling for help. A voice that Maxis hadn’t heard. Terran wasn’t the type to stick his neck out for a stranger, but he couldn’t ignore the idea whoever called out to him needed help. The moment he saw that female bleeding in the snow, he considered putting her out of her misery. It would’ve upset Janine, but it would have been for the best. But before he could draw his weapon, the dragon half-opened an eye and looked at him. Suddenly, all he could think about was saving her. The thought consumed him; he was more than ready to do whatever possible to save her life, even if it cost him his own. That she might not make it never crossed his mind.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing,” Maxis said. “That dragon is going to cause us nothing but trouble if she survives.”

“If she dies, you’re the one who has to drag her corpse outta here, so I figured you’d want her to survive,” Terran replied.

Maxis snorted and left the room. Terran smiled and closed his eyes.

His rest was short-lived as Janine spoke to him. “Um, Mr. Mercer? Can we talk?”

“Call me Terran,” he responded, his eyes still closed.

“Okay, Terran. I wanna hire you.”

Terran sat up and turned to Janine, hoping he had misheard her. The strong stare she gave him with a fierce conviction in her eyes told him she wasn’t joking. “Uh, you do realize I’m doing plenty for you already?” he asked.

“That’s why I said 'hire' and not 'do me a favor'.” She pulled a coin purse from her pocket and tossed it to him. “That enough?”

He weighed the pouch of coins in his hand. It held a fair amount of coin. Likely enough to afford his services, but he tossed the coin purse back to the girl. “I don’t want your money.”

“Please?” Her voice cracked, making his brow rise. She quickly cleared her throat and said, “The men who shot A--Snowflake, they took somethin from her. Somethin precious. I gotta get it back.”

“Well, in that case, the answer’s no." He laid back down and closed his eyes.

“But—”

“Listen, girl, if someone is bold and crazy enough to rob a dragon, I’m not going anywhere near ‘em. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away. Whatever they took, it’s gone. Probably some damn worthless trinket anyway,” he added under his breath.

Silence. He thought he would finally get some sleep when she punched him in the side of the head. It hurt more than he expected. Looking at her, she didn’t seem that strong. In a straight fight, she wouldn’t last, but underestimating her was a painful lesson. He quickly sat up, ready to tell her off but froze seeing her fierce glare, tears streaming down her face. If looks could kill, he was certain he would’ve dropped dead on the spot.

“It ain't some worthless trinket,” she said, her voice shaking with every word. “If you won’t help me, fine. Soon as she’s better, we’ll leave and find someone else.” She spun on her heel and stormed out of the room.

Terran rubbed his temple where Janine punched him, equal parts confused and impressed. After a near escape with death, she wasn’t backing down, but she lacked common sense or any sense of preservation. Anyone willing to take on a dragon wasn’t some common thug. It cost coin and required connections to go after one of those beasts. The Scale Guild could be involved for all he knew. Whatever those two were wrapped up in, he wanted no part of it. He still had to cut ties with another crazy client who asked him to hunt dragons.

Well, Maxis, looks like you were right. These females are dangerous, he thought. Not that nightstalker would ever hear him admit it. He would never hear the end of it.