Joyeuse Guard (Wearing the Cape Book 9) by Marion G. Harmon

Author:Marion G. Harmon [Harmon, Marion G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-11-24T06:00:00+00:00

Zmey Gorynich.

That’s who was in town.

Astra called the meeting the instant her fiancé called in with the intel, and now we all stood around the table in the Tour Bus’s operations center as she talked to a reawakened and grimly focused Director Voigt on a screen, sarcasm lacing her voice.

“Everyone thought Gorynich was in a New Russia prison. It turns out the New Russian government drafted him for military work and he slipped his leash. Their military hushed it up, thinking the Russian Federation had killed him. Big shock, like this has never happened.”

“We’re certain it’s him?”

“It’s him. Kitsune got visual confirmation and the footprint of the destroyed mosque matches his power signature. The only good news is he’s the sole confirmed superhuman in town—the others with him are ‘Russian Kazakh militia,’ in from the surrounding territory. They came into town only after the ‘Ethnic Kazakh militia’ got decimated and routed.”

“What do you recommend?”

“Immediate and full evacuation. Surrounded as it is by Russian-majority territory, Kokshetau Base is a trap anyway.”

“We’re already caravanning refugees south; the next group leaves tomorrow.”

“Double-pack it. Triple-pack it if you can, women-and-children-first protocols. How fast can we get additional wheels and security?”

“No faster than already planned.” The director ran fingers through his short-cropped hair. “Every HWB resource is fully committed. I’ll do what I can but I fear . . . perhaps we can . . . Thank you for letting us know, we will coordinate our plans.” His screen went dark and Astra turned to us, us being all of Joyeuse Guard but Ozma, plus Imperator, Eric Ludlow, Childe, a Platoon, and myself. The operations center had become a tighter squeeze.

“Shell’s got a drone net between here and town and says if a flea sneezes out there she’ll know about it,” she informed us. “Most of us here have faced him before but it’s been awhile—Shell, tell us all about Zmey Gorynich.”

“Okeydokey!” A screen lit up with a narrow, saturnine face, dark brows under a deeply peaked buzz cut. “Zmey’s a bad, bad man. Nobody knows what triggered his breakthrough but it had to have been backed by a hot, hot rage. When not pumped up he only weighs in as an A Class Ajax-Type, but like Grendel he can transform.”

She brought up another image, a more monstrous Zmey.

“He can put on mass and density—not enough to keep an Atlas-Type from throwing him around, but enough to soak up huge amounts of kinetic impact without budging. He can heat up. He’s not a pyrokinetic, doesn’t generate and control fire, but he can generate sufficient heat to spontaneously combust flammables in near proximity and just his touch can burn even superhumanly tough types like Astra to the bone. If that’s not bad enough—” The image changed again to show three Zmeys side by side, all of them transformed with skin gone black as solid magma, lit by glowing cracks. Their eyes glowed red and their spidery fingers shone almost white hot. “—he can divide into three Zmeys, three ‘heads of the dragon.

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