Dragon Nemesis (Dragons of Boston Book 2) by Chris A. Jackson

Author:Chris A. Jackson [Jackson, Chris A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Falstaff Books
Published: 2020-07-14T22:00:00+00:00

David paced the floor of his room, trying to keep his claws from piercing his palms. The changes were accelerating, the psychological ones as much as the physiological. His finger and toenails were now claws, his smallest two fingers elongating, a fine membrane forming between them and down his arm. His eyes had turned stark yellow, the pupils elongating into vertical slits, his senses so sharp he could count the hairs standing up on the back of his psychologist’s neck. He quenched the desire to bury his teeth right there at the base of the pencil-pusher’s skull.

“And your dreams are the same, or have they also intensified?” The psych doc scratched notes on an electronic tablet as he spoke. “More dreams of flying?”

“Flying, hunting, feeding… Yeah, the same.” He hadn’t told anyone about the more erotic dreams, scales on scales, teeth and claws, violent copulation.

“But your anxiety has increased, yes?”

“Yes. Mostly I’m just bored, I think. I’m sick of needles, tests, evaluations, and questions. No offense, Doc, but this shit’s driving me nuts.”

“But you’ve undergone extended periods of stress before. Special forces training pushes most candidates past the level of human endurance, both physically and psychologically. You passed those trials with flying colors.”

“I wasn’t Homo-fucking-draconis then, Doc!” David clenched his hands into fists and winced as his claws pierced the flesh. “Fuck!”

The psychologist looked back at the blood on David’s hands. “Are you all right? You want me to call for medical attention?”

“No. I just need to get used to these fucking things.” He extended his claws for the doctor to see, pleased with the man’s suddenly dilating pupils, the reek of fear sweat, the increased pulse. He sheathed his claws and licked his palms. “I’ll be fine. It’s happened before. The wounds heal fast.”

“I know it’s happened before, David.” He turned back to his tablet, the stylus scratching notes. “Are you sure it’s accidental?”

“You think I’d hurt myself on purpose?” One glance over the man’s shoulder at his notes confirmed that he did. “It’s accidental, Doc. I clench my hands when I’m wound up. I need something to do! Some entertainment! TV’s disgusting, and I don’t play video games. I need a night out, or a night in for fucksake!”

“Well, we can offer you movies, alcohol, or even some mental challenges. There are strategy games on your system.” He scratched more notes. “I’m sorry, but I can’t offer you female companionship due to the contagion risk, but we do have erotic videos and simulations.”

So, if I wasn’t contagious, you’d deliver a whore to my room? He snorted in disgust. “No thanks. Well, yes to the alcohol. Bourbon. Strategy games make the anxiety worse. I need to get out, move around.”

“The evaluations are scheduled to include some VR simulations. Combat scenarios. You’ve used those before, yes?”

“Sure.” The headgear was heavy, but military technology far-surpassed the mainstream gaming industry. Covert ops ran training simulations of missions prior to deployment, the environments recreated from satellite footage and intel reports. They were certainly challenging.

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