The Salvatore School buzzed with an undercurrent of tension the morning after Landon's arrival. James, now inhabiting this new skin, woke to the muffled sounds of students shuffling down the hall, laughter echoing from the common room, and the faint scent of pancakes wafting from the kitchen.
His dorm was sparse but cozy: a twin bed with crisp sheets, a wooden desk cluttered with borrowed notebooks, and a window framing the misty Virginia woods.
He stretched, feeling the subtle differences in Landon's body—shorter reach, leaner build, but the powers thrummed unchanged. Fire coiled in his core like a faithful hound, and Danger Sense whispered a constant baseline of safety.
Breakfast in the dining hall was a whirlwind of introductions. Josie Saltzman, with her warm smile and ponytail, slid a plate of eggs his way. "New kid tax," she said, eyes twinkling. "Eat up. Dad says you're sticking around for a bit."
Her twin, Lizzie, appraised him from across the table with a raised eyebrow, her blonde curls bouncing as she leaned in. "So, what's your deal? Witch? Wolf? Or just tragically human?"
"Human," he replied, forcing a shy grin that felt natural on Landon's face. "For now."
MG—vampire with a comic-book obsession—clapped him on the back. "Welcome to the freak show, man. If you start growing fangs, let me know. I'll hook you up with the good blood bags."
Hope sat a few seats away, nursing a coffee, her gaze occasionally flicking his way. She hadn't said much since showing him the dorms, but there was a curiosity there, a spark from their shared history.
James kept his responses light, playing the grieving newcomer: nods, quiet thanks, eyes downcast when Rafael came up.
Inside, he cataloged alliances—Josie the mediator, Lizzie the wildcard, MG the muscle, Hope the powerhouse.
Alaric called a quick assembly after breakfast, his voice booming over the PA. "Senior students to my office. We've got a situation."
James wasn't senior, but when Hope caught his eye and jerked her head toward the door, he followed. Opportunity knocked.
The office was a cluttered sanctum of ancient tomes, weapons racks, and a massive desk piled with files. Alaric paced, rubbing his stubble.
"The bus attack two nights ago—charity run to Richmond. Bodies burned beyond recognition. Sheriff Matt's calling it a gas leak, but we know better. Witnesses reported a woman wandering the woods near the site, looking shell-shocked. Could be a survivor, could be something else."
Hope leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Malivore?"
"Too soon to say," Alaric replied. "But with the memorial tonight, we can't risk exposure. Hope, Josie, Lizzie—you're with me. We'll scout the woods, find this woman, bring her in if she's supernatural."
James cleared his throat. "Can I come? I… I knew some kids on that bus. From school. If it's dangerous, maybe I can help spot something normal."
Alaric hesitated, eyes narrowing. "You're new, Landon. And human."
"Please," James pressed, layering on the vulnerability. "I need to feel useful. Sitting here… it'll drive me crazy."
Hope nodded slowly. "Let him. He can stay back if it gets hairy."
Alaric sighed. "Fine. But stick close and do what I say."
The group piled into Alaric's SUV, rumbling down back roads toward the crash site. The woods thickened, sunlight dappling through leaves in deceptive peace.
James sat in the back with Hope, the twins up front chatting spells. Danger Sense hummed low—no immediate threats, but a prickling unease built as they parked and hiked in.
Charred remnants of the bus loomed in a clearing: twisted metal skeleton, ash blanketing the ground like snow. The air reeked of soot and something metallic—blood, perhaps.
Josie wrinkled her nose. "This wasn't a fire. This was an inferno."
Lizzie scanned the treeline. "Over there. Movement."
A woman staggered from the underbrush—mid-20s, disheveled clothes singed at the edges, eyes wide and vacant. She clutched a backpack bulging with odd shapes: watches, phones, jewelry glinting through the zipper. Hoarding. James's lore knowledge clicked: dragon.
Alaric approached slowly, hands up. "Miss? Are you okay? We're here to help."
She mumbled incoherently, gaze darting to Hope's pocket—where, James realized, she must have the Malivore knife tucked away. The artifact's pull.
Hope stepped forward. "Hey, it's alright. What happened?"
The woman's head snapped up, eyes glowing amber. "The key… give it to me."
Transformation hit like a storm. Skin rippled, scales erupting in iridescent waves—green and gold, armored plates clacking into place. Limbs elongated, wings unfurling with a leathery snap that shook leaves from branches. Horns curved from her skull, tail lashing like a whip. In seconds, she towered thirty feet, a mythical beast roaring defiance at the sky.
"Dragon?!" Alaric yelled, shoving the girls back. "Everyone, defensive positions!"
The twins linked hands, chanting a barrier spell—shimmering air coalescing into a dome. MG blurred forward, fangs out, but the dragon's tail swiped him aside like a ragdoll. Hope's hands glowed with hybrid magic, flinging a bolt that singed a wing but barely slowed it.
James hung back, heart pounding. Fire versus fire? Tempting, but exposure risked everything. Danger Sense screamed: Incoming breath attack, frontal cone.
The dragon inhaled, chest expanding, embers flickering in its maw. Then—exhale. A torrent of flame erupted, orange-blue inferno roaring toward the group. Alaric dove behind a log, yelling for cover. The twins' barrier cracked under the heat, Josie crying out as blisters formed on her arms.
The fire veered, zeroing on James/Landon's body frozen in the path. Danger Sense blared: Direct hit, lethal. Flames licked closer, heat singeing his hoodie, the air warping like a mirage.
Then, everything stopped.
Time froze. The world grayed out—flames suspended mid-roar, Alaric's mouth open in a silent shout, Hope's magic halted in arc.
Birds hung in the sky like statues. Only James moved, breath ragged in the silence.
The screen shimmered into existence, blue text pulsing.
WOULD YOU LIKE TO TRADE QUIRK: DANGER SENSE FOR ABILITY: WATER (ALLOWS USER TO WIELD WATER, IMAGINATION IS THE ONLY LIMIT)?
Trade? Lose the spider-sense that had saved him twice? But water—hydrokinesis, perfect counter to fire. Imagination's limit. In a world of flames and dragons, it was a no-brainer. "Yes," he said, voice echoing in the void.
The screen dissolved, a cool rush flooding his veins—like diving into an ocean, refreshing and vast.
Danger Sense faded, a quiet absence, replaced by the ebb and flow of moisture in the air, the pull of nearby streams, the humidity clinging to leaves.
Time snapped back.
The flames slammed forward, inches from his face. Instinct took over—no time for doubt. James thrust his hands out, envisioning a barrier: water condensing from the mist, pulling from the damp earth, coalescing into a swirling dome around him. It materialized in a rush—crystal-clear shield, rippling like a liquid mirror, thick as armor.
The dragon's fire hit it with a hiss, steam exploding in white clouds. The inferno parted around the water, neutralized, heat dissipating into harmless vapor. James held firm, the shield holding without a crack, his new power intuitive as breathing.
The group stared, stunned. Alaric blinked through the steam. "Landon? What the hell—"
Hope seized the moment. While the dragon recoiled, confused by the countered blast, she blurred forward, her speed a streak.
The Malivore knife flashed in her hand, ancient blade humming with dark energy. She leaped onto the beast's neck, dodging a snap of jaws, and drove the knife deep into the soft throat scales.
The dragon roared, a gurgling death cry, wings thrashing as black ichor sprayed. It convulsed, body shrinking back to human form mid-fall, collapsing in a heap of scales and smoke. The knife pulsed once, absorbing the essence, and the corpse dissolved into mud.
Silence fell, broken by panting breaths and the crackle of cooling embers. Josie lowered her hands, blisters already healing with a quick spell. Lizzie helped MG up, the vampire groaning but intact.
Alaric approached the mud pile warily, knife in hand. "A dragon. An actual dragon. This… this changes everything."
Hope sheathed the blade, wiping sweat from her brow. Her eyes locked on James/Landon—wide with a mix of awe and questions.
"You… that water shield. How?"
He shrugged, feigning shock, cheeks flushing under her gaze—a real reaction from Landon's body. "I don't know. It just… happened. Like the dreams, but real."
She stepped closer, studying him. "You saved us. That fire would've roasted half the team." Then, impulsively, she leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek—soft, warm, a spark that sent his borrowed heart racing. "Thanks, Landon."
He blushed furiously, skin heating to his ears. Landon's fair complexion betrayed him, turning tomato-red. "Uh… yeah. No problem." Inside, James reeled— the Tribrid, kissing him? Plot twist of the century.
The group regrouped, Alaric clapping his shoulder. "Looks like you're not so human after all. We'll run more tests back at school. But kid… nice work."
As they hiked back to the SUV, steam still rising from the scorched earth, James flexed his fingers subtly. Water answered—a tiny orb forming in his palm, cool and obedient. Fire and water now. Balance. The dragon was down.
Hope fell into step beside him, her shoulder brushing his. "Those dreams about fire… and now water? You're full of surprises, Kirby."
He smiled, blush fading. "You have no idea."
Back at school, as the sun dipped toward the memorial, james pondered the trade. No more preemptive warnings, but in a world of monsters, adaptation was key. The kiss lingered.