by JD Monroe
“Truly?”
“Yes. But I want to say goodbye to Erevan first.”
Dornan’s lip curled. “In his condition, he’s not likely to see you.”
Her belly twisted with rage at his smug tone. She’d show him. “I don’t care. I want to say goodbye to him.”
Dornan pondered, then nodded. “I’ll have to make some arrangements. You’ll understand why I can’t simply cut them loose. I’ll have transportation, and when you and I are on our way, I’ll have them released.”
“How do I know you will?”
“I’ll secure proof as soon as we’re away. You have my word.” He gestured to the woman. “Take her back. I have arrangements to make.”
Chaos enveloped him when they took her away.
His flames turned inward, burning and searing down to each cell. His bones shrank and grew, shattered into pieces that fused and broke apart in an instant. He’d lost her, lost the gleam of her eyes, the sweet smell of her skin, the now-familiar touch of her magic.
She was gone, and he was lost.
The storm was unrelenting. The Elegy overwhelmed him, deafening, drowning out everything. The world went black, then white, then black, over and over. Rough hands grabbed him. Little biting pinpricks of needles, then something larger into the faraway appendages of his arms. The ground disappeared. He drifted.
More than a bite this time.
Thunder, lightning, agony as sharp teeth bit into each arm, then into his thighs. Every small movement pulled raw flesh and muscle against a sharp implement. The pain and confusion muddled his mind so badly he couldn’t make sense of what was happening.
Let this end.
All he could see was up, a plain white ceiling, and the occasional shadow of a figure looming over him, tiny beams of light poured right into his eyes. And there was the foul death-smell of their magic coating his lips and throat, so thick and stinking that it was all he could smell and taste.
Natalie. Where are you?
Had they failed? Was she safe? He couldn’t remember. He knew she wasn’t here, or he wouldn’t be in so much pain. The red dragon slammed against its bony cage. This was pain like he’d never felt, something he could taste like sharp metal and raw meat on his tongue. And that horrific sound was still there vibrating in his bones.
See me, he pleaded. He was out of the Mother’s sight.
Time meant nothing. He couldn’t guess how long it had been when a shadow passed over his face, obscuring the harsh glow he could see even with his eyes closed. His eyes burned, and the face above him was a featureless blob of shadow. “I suppose it’s your lucky day,” the male voice said. It sounded vaguely familiar.
The face was replaced by one he knew. Natalie. Relief rushed through him, a fleeting respite from his pain. “I came to say goodbye,” she said. She rested her hand on his face. Even her delicate touch set him on fire, his skin feeling as if it would shatter. “Trust me. I’m doing this for you.”
Goodbye?
“Trust me. I’m here.” Her presence wasn’t a gentle warmth this time. It was a burning spear, crackling and white-hot straight through his chest. Her emotions were crystal clear.
Need.
Desperation.
Pleading.
Her voice, clear as a bell, rang through the roaring storm.
Get up. You have to get up.
Then he saw it, a translucent white light in the form of a hand, reaching through the darkness for him. He grabbed it. Purifying fire burned through him, drowning out that terrible sound. Like getting a foothold among crumbling rubble, he hauled himself out of the cycle.
All at once, the world returned. In a heartbeat, he searched the room. Too small for his dragon form. Natalie and the man in the suit, who had to be Dornan, on either side of him. Two guards near the door, which was a yard past the end of the bed, visible over his own dirt-streaked toes. No one was on alert, though Natalie’s wide eyes hinted that she’d realized her presence had an effect on him.
“That’s enough,” Dornan said. He gripped Natalie’s upper arm. “Let’s go.”
Her weight shifted subtly, and she swung around with her free arm, driving her palm into his face. Dornan reeled, clapping his hands over his nose. Natalie ducked behind Erevan. With one hand resting on his forehead, she seized the snarl of tubes snaking into his arms and yanked them out. “Sorry,” she said as they ripped free.
He gritted his teeth and let out a roar of frustration, pulling against the restraints. Her fingers tangled into the thick strap on his left arm and pried it open. Twisting awkwardly, he got his arm out of the loop. Blood ran down his wrist. The thick leather straps were lined with gleaming metal teeth. He fumbled to get the other free, his fingers shaking and uncoordinated.
One of the guards circled the table and grabbed for Natalie. She ducked, but the man was quick and threw another hard blow that caught her in the temple. Her head snapped to the side as she grabbed the side of the table for balance. As she stumbled, his confusion melted away, leaving only white-hot rage.
He snapped through the other arm restraint and sat upright. The guard who had struck Natalie lunged for him, and Erevan caught him by the face, his thumbs digging into the hollows of the man’s cheeks. He hurt Natalie. Without hesitation, Erevan twisted hard enough to turn the human’s head completely around. With a satisfying crack, the man went limp.
Dornan extended his hand. A familiar dry heat filled the room as a ball of flame coalesced around his fingers. He released it, sending a burning orb at Erevan. Fire licked across his bare chest, searing his skin. His own fire protected him from worse damage, and only made him angrier.
The other guard raised a shotgun and fired it. The roar deafened him as something punched hard into his shoulder. He recoiled, but there was no ripping sensation or spray of blood. A flat rubber slug bounced off his skin. It hurt, but they didn’t want him dead yet. He scowled and tore the restraints free from his legs. In one bound, he was on his feet and diving toward the other guard. He grabbed the shotgun, flipped it, and slammed it into the guard’s forehead. The guard fell to the ground.
Dornan reached into his pocket. Erevan had learned by now that the man was reaching for a remote for the Elegy. He reached back with one hand and shouted, “Natalie!”
Her hand closed on his, and he pulled her in close, tucking her behind him. Instead, Dornan narrowed his eyes and threw his hands out. No remote. His lips moved silently, and then he released a wall of flame that poured through the door. Erevan felt the heat of it well before it reached them. He spun and tackled her, trying to use his power to deflect the flame. Beneath him, she cried out.
The roar of flame passed, and he whirled to fire back. Dornan was gone.
Natalie groaned as he jostled her. Her left arm was angry red, the back of her shoulder blistered with burns. Her face was contorted into a grimace, but she didn’t cry. Her chest trembled as she took a deep breath. Clenching her fingers to test her movement, she said, “I’m okay.” Despite her brave words, he felt the fear and pain churning in her.
“I’m going to kill him.” Instinct took over, and he grabbed the side of her face to steal a kiss before hell broke loose. “Thank you,” he murmured against her lips. She kissed him back, embracing him tightly with one arm.
“Told you I could help.” Her voice was pinched by pain. Her pulse was dangerously fast, thrumming against his chest. “We have to go.”
He pulled her to her feet and lurched into the hall. It was wide enough to accommodate a vehicle driving through the hallway, which meant it was wide enough for his dragon.
“Wait a second,” she said. She darted back into the room and grabbed the shotgun from the man he’d just incapacitated. “Rubber bullets. Jerks.”
Fueled by rage at what these people had done, not only to him, but to Natalie and all of the others, he unleashed the dragon. Natalie clambered onto his back, and he barreled down the hall. He could smell Dornan, the evil magic and the sooty smell of his fire magic
intertwined.
A string of guards in tactical gear poured into the hallway. One was the woman who’d summoned the wind barrier before. She held a remote in one hand. Before the woman could activate the Elegy, thunder cracked overhead. The woman staggered back, clutching her chest. There was a ratcheting noise above him as Natalie ejected a shell from the shotgun. Good girl.
Erevan planted his feet and unleashed a cone of flame toward the remaining guards, who’d lost their shield with the hybrid incapacitated. Engulfed in flames, they dropped to the ground. Erevan barreled through them. Bone crunched underfoot as he stepped on one’s chest.
“He’s going to leave,” Natalie said. “He has a helicopter.”
Dornan’s scent led to a narrow doorway into a stairwell, but he couldn’t fit through. It was too much of a risk to change back and forth again; it might be too much after what they’d done to him. He growled in frustration, his tail slamming into the walls on either side of him.
Natalie pounded on his neck. “Turn around. Elevator.”
He tucked his wings in tight to turn around. A set of double doors for a freight elevator was at the opposite end of the hall. He rumbled his approval and hurtled toward it. When he reached it, he breathed fire at the metal doors, then used one claw to pry them open. He poked his head in. The car was below them on a lower level, leaving the shaft above them empty. There were enough pipes and structural supports lining the walls that he could climb out.
“Oh, God.” Natalie leaned against his neck, clinging to him with a death grip.
He launched into the elevator shaft, catching the metal framework on either side. The beams groaned under his weight. Placing each foot carefully, he climbed up the shaft. His back claws sliced through the sides of the structure. It didn’t take long to reach the top. Clinging to the side with one arm, he pried the doors open with the other and dove through.
The doors opened onto the barn area he’d seen before, which meant they were a few steps from daylight. The open area was empty. Either all the guards had been sent down to deal with him, or they were leaving with Dornan.
Up here, he could pick up Dornan’s sooty scent again. He ran outside and was greeted by the sound of a helicopter. Erevan took flight, following the sound toward the back of the building, where a helicopter was lifting free of a concrete landing pad. As he approached, the aircraft lurched upward, as if they were trying to get away faster now that they’d spotted him.
If it wasn’t for Natalie, he would have tackled the aircraft without a thought, not caring if the wicked blades cut into him. His scaled hide would take the brunt of it. But she was exposed on his back, and he didn’t dare put her down for fear of the Elegy.
Instead, he leveled himself with the aircraft, bellowing flame into its open side. The vehicle filled with billowing flames and tipped precariously to one side. Erevan braced himself and flew higher, then dropped to land atop the helicopter. Excruciating pain ripped through his legs as his back feet landed on the roof, forcing the blade to a halt against his thick limbs. He roared, then bore the helicopter straight down to the ground below. Natalie screamed in fright as they tumbled, but he was careful to keep himself upright.
When the helicopter crashed to the ground, Erevan ripped the propeller off. The metal cage bent beyond repair beneath his weight. Dornan was inside batting at his burning sleeve. Erevan grabbed him, claws digging into his shoulders, and hurled him out of the smoking ruin of the helicopter. The man rolled on his side and got to his feet. Erevan stamped his feet, zeroing in on him with murder on his mind.
The man scowled at him. “Mindless brute,” he spat. “Go ahead. I fall, three more rise in my wake. Justice cannot be halted.”
Seeing Dornan fall sounded just fine to him. Erevan roared, preparing a blistering volley of flame. Natalie pounded on the back of his neck. “No,” she shouted over his growl. “He might have answers.”
“Ever the strategist,” the man said. “I should—"
Thunder cracked by Erevan’s head. Dornan flew backward, landing flat on his back with his hands clutched to his chest. Writhing like a worm, he gasped for air. “Rubber bullets. How do you like it, jerk?” She slid off Erevan’s back. “Hold tight for just a second.”
He growled and padded toward her.
“Natalie, please,” the man choked. Natalie swung the gun around and smacked him in the face with it. His head lolled back, and he slumped.
“Asshole,” she spat. She turned to Erevan. “Is it over?”
He growled and released his dragon form. They still had to find the Elegy, but there was no sign of more guards emerging from the barn. They would have a much easier time getting around the building if he wasn’t working with a twenty-foot wingspan.
“The Elegy,” he said breathlessly when he’d finished the transformation.
“And pants for you,” she replied. “Let’s go.”
The last place Natalie wanted to go was back into the barn. It was filled with the smell of rot and death. She finally understood what Sohan had meant when he said he smelled blood magic on Erevan.
But they hadn’t completed the mission. Now that Erevan was free, they needed to find Thea and put an end to this. Life had clearly gotten weird, as she barely paid a fully-nude and dirt-streaked Erevan any notice. Though she was fairly sure they didn’t have to worry about the Elegy with most of Dornan’s guards lying unconscious or dead, she grasped his hand for security. It was as much for her own sake as his.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Yes. Are you?” He touched her elbow lightly. Dornan’s attack had burned her left arm, blistering the skin from shoulder to fingertips. “I know this must hurt.”
“I’ll be okay. Let’s find them.” It was hard to bend, and it hurt like hell, but the adrenaline softened the edges of the pain, so it didn’t hold her back. If she didn’t look at it, she could tell herself it wasn’t so bad.
He shook his head. “Sohan was right about you.”
The barn was oddly quiet and still in the wake of Erevan’s rampage. Erevan led the way, peeking around the double doors before pulling her through. They passed the wood-paneled room where she’d met with Dornan, then another open room that looked like an armory. Racks of weapons hung on the wall, some areas with conspicuous gaps. At the end of the hall was a heavy locked door.
Erevan snapped the handle off the door and walked in. “Goes downstairs.” After he inspected and determined it was safe, they hurried down the stairs together. When they emerged into the harsh white light at the bottom of the stairs, she recognized the hall where she’d found Erevan. Dornan’s men still lay crumpled at the opposite end of the hall. Smoke clouded the air, but there was no fire.
They bypassed the open door to Erevan’s room and found a second just past it. His eyes closed as he sniffed the air. “Edra,” he said. He snapped the handle, then shoved the door open.
The room was identical to the one she’d been in before. Lilya, the pretty Edra woman who’d accompanied Thosrin, stood in the far corner with her hands in a defensive position. She peeked around her hands. “Erevan?”
“It’s me,” he said, hurrying toward her. “I’m so sorry.”
“Are you okay?” Natalie asked.
“I’m okay,” she said. Her eyes were puffy, like she’d been crying. Her left eye was swollen and bruised with a deep cut over her brow. She wore a flimsy hospital gown. “Are you?”
“We’re okay,” Natalie said.
Lilya’s lips hinted at a smile. “I’m glad you got my message.” She looked Erevan over. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks.” He knelt in front of her, grasping her hands. “Where are the other Kadirai?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “I blacked out when they hit me outside, and I woke up here. The smell is so strong, I can’t really tell where it’s coming from.”
“What about the weapon?” Erevan said.
Lilya shook her head. “I’ve heard it, but I don’t think it affe
cts me the same way as you. I feel sort of nauseous, but that’s it.” She pointed up to the corner of the room. Natalie followed her gesture to see a small speaker. “It seems to come through the speaker, although I feel it as much as I hear it if that makes sense.”
“It does,” Erevan said. A shadow passed over his face. “We got the speakers outside.”
“It has to have a source,” Natalie said. “Do you want to come with us?”
Lilya stared at her hands before meeting Natalie’s eyes. “I will if you want me to.”
“No,” Erevan said emphatically. “You’re not a fighter. Stay here until we come back for you.” The other woman looked relieved and didn’t protest.
“Be safe,” she said.
They left Lilya in the room, checking each room down the hall in turn. There were two more cells like Lilya’s, but they were empty. At the end of the hall was a supply room. Natalie was pleased to find her backpack on a shelf inside. The belongings inside were disturbed, making it clear someone had searched it. There was no sign of her gun or the one Rosak had given her, but they’d left her phone. She handed Erevan his clothes.
“You don’t like me this way?” His voice was still rough.
“Don’t blame me if you get hit in all your soft parts.” Even with the dirt and blood on him, he was breathtaking. Despite his half-hearted joke, he looked more comfortable once he was covered.
They returned to the stairwell and descended to the bottom level. Erevan kicked the door open, and it slammed into the wall with a satisfying clang. He burst through the door ahead of Natalie, then took a step back, staggering as if he was drunk. The smell of the blood magic was overwhelming. Erevan held Natalie’s arm, his weight almost bowling her over as he steadied himself. She didn’t comment on his dramatic reaction, not after her eyes adjusted to the low light and gave her a view of the room beyond.
Beyond the stairwell was a huge open space. Like Beale’s facility, the space was sectioned off with metal partitions. The first section was compact, packed tight with tables. Rough-hewn wooden crates covered the tables, with packing straw strewn about the surfaces and the concrete floor. The smell was even stronger here.
