His stepmother had been dependent on it for almost as long as he could remember. It would eventually kill her. The only upside was that she was now so decrepit that most of the time, she left him alone.
Most of the time. Hoping to diffuse the situation, Lucas turned away from her. He reached for the cupboard that usually housed crackers when Sadie launched at him, fingers curled.
She’d grown tiny claws from their tips, and her teeth had morphed into fangs. Although tired, his reactions were sharp. He grabbed her wrists, keeping the pointed claws from his skin as her teeth gnashed.
There wasn’t a hint of reason in her yellowed eyes. Even though she was too weak to morph fully, she was fiercely strong. To fend her off, Lucas called on his own morph, and visualized an orangutan he’d once seen at a zoo. By leaning through a barrier, he’d managed the barest touch of the leathery fingers. Which was all it had taken for him to absorb the creature’s DNA into his own.
What he needed now were its forelimbs, not the entire animal. His body responded, his arms lengthened, and wiry muscles and wisps of orange hair wrapped around them. Along with the arms, he adopted the tremendous strength. It enabled him to hold off his crazed stepmother as he lifted her straight up off the ground and hurled her into the pantry. Empty boxes went flying as she thrashed, but he slammed the door and put his back to it.
Panting as the door heaved, she screamed at him, and he let his arms return to normal. One bled where her claws had managed to score him. He hadn’t even felt it happen. Compared to some things she’d done in the past, it was minor.
The insults tapered off, and the pantry fell silent. Lucas knew that she would fall into a stupor after the outburst. He just had to wait it out.
How much longer before she slipped into a coma and didn’t wake up? Those addicted to the dust all went that way when the crystal eventually failed to rouse them. It was a one-way road to oblivion.
Lucas left the pantry door closed and grabbed his jacket and pack on his way out the door.
He had crystal to steal.
* * *
Aria descended the stairs in the wake of the Trogs carrying the crystal delivery. They headed for Udo’s display room in the basement.
On the way, they passed three more guards. Because Udo’s crystal stash was worth a veritable fortune, her boss kept a crapload of mercenaries on staff.
She left the stairway and pushed past a guard she didn’t recognize. Not surprising, really, Udo repeatedly brought in new assets. His naiveté became immediately obvious when his yellow gaze scanned her from feet to breasts, where they stopped dead. She ground her teeth—another recruit to train.
The Trog’s lipless mouth opened, revealing sharp teeth within. “I heard you were luscious, but those rumors didn’t do you justice.” His coarse voice grated on her nerves. “Want to join me later?”
“Dream on. And get your eyes off my boobs, or you’ll lose them,” snarled Aria.
A low growl was her only warning. With surprising speed, considering his bulk, he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her against his sweaty body.
After months dealing with these oversexed cretins, Aria was ready for him. She lashed out with a hand that had suddenly sprouted smaller versions of her Dragon talons. It caught him across the cheek, slashing four parallel lines in the leathery flesh.
He flinched back and grunted, proving that although inefficient, pain receptors were indeed present. She dug the talons of her other hand deep into the arm that gripped her, and followed it up with a hard, driving knee to his groin.
The basic humanoid design elements held as true to the Trogs as they did to Dragon shifters. His breath left him in a whoosh of expelled air. She extricated herself from his grasp and left him panting in pain, hunched over as he clutched himself.
Her knee stung—Trog genitals possessed a thick, leathery protection, and it required extra effort to make a suitable impression. Aria figured her knee had developed significant scar tissue... perhaps she needed a customized knee guard. Preferably something with a metal spike.
Another guard watched from the doorway down the hall. He shook his head as he spoke into the comm unit strapped to his ear.
“Aria incoming,” he said.
“Let her in,” a voice replied.
Aria stalked to the entrance. “Eyeing my ass has similar ramifications,” she called back over her shoulder. The injured guard moaned.
His compatriot at the door snorted as he held it open for her. The arm he used had half-healed scars. Aria purveyed them with satisfaction as she passed by and went into the room.
Udo looked up from where the guards had dumped a sample of his crystal shipment—it glittered against a dark velvet cloth.
The underlord had caught her parting comment to the guard. He pinned her with a beady glare. “Stop maiming my bodyguards.”
“With all due respect, sir, I’ll stop maiming them when they stop pawing me.”
He acknowledged that comment with lowered brows. “You put two in the hospital. That costs me currency.”
