dragons breath 02 - dancing with flames

by Illene, Susan

  “It’s all your fault.”

  More gunfire rang out and I followed the direction of the sound. We arrived at the intersection of 36th and Main Street. On the northeast corner where the local mall was located, a group of bikers were pulling on a red dragon with hooks and ropes they’d somehow gotten into him.

  “Oh, shit,” Conrad said. “That’s not Aidan is it?”

  I leaned forward, trying to get a good look at the creature while also trying to control my slayer instincts. My blood pressure was already beginning to rise. “No, the coloring isn’t quite the same and Aidan is out of town right now on a mission for his father.”

  “How in the hell did they manage to trap a dragon like that?” Conrad asked.

  “No idea.” My foot pressed down on the gas pedal. The closer I got to the battle, the more my instincts took over and all I could think about was attacking the dragon.

  “Bailey,” Conrad said, speaking my name slowly. “Aidan’s gonna be pissed if you help those bikers kill one of his people.”

  I slammed on my breaks about a hundred feet from the bikers, set the gearshift into park, and reached for my sword. “Can’t…help it.”

  The primitive part of my mind had taken over. Conrad grabbed my arm, but I shrugged him off and got out of the truck. I raced across the pavement toward the struggling red dragon. Half a dozen bikers gathered around the beast, holding it with their ropes and shooting at it. The hook was stuck in its upper and lower jaws, keeping its mouth shut, but it loosened a little more with each toss of the creature’s head. Any moment, that dragon was going to get free.

  “Get back!” I yelled.

  Two of the men glanced at me, but none of them stopped what they were doing. They needed to get the hell out of the way before they got hurt. I ran up to the three guys holding the rope extending from the dragon’s mouth and switched my sword to my non-dominant hand to free the other. I took hold of the nearest man and tossed him twenty feet. He landed with a thud, knocking his head into the ground. The adrenaline coursing through my veins fueled my need to move the humans and attack the dragon. I grabbed the next guy, tossing him toward his buddy.

  Just as I reached for the third man’s shoulder, the dragon reared up, and the hook came loose from its mouth. It roared a stream of flames at us. Everything went red and orange, blinding me. The man who I’d been grasping disintegrated beneath my fingertips. I was too late. If I’d had just a few more seconds, I could have gotten him out of the way.

  The flames extinguished, and I pulled my sword up, slashing at the dragon’s chest. Its yellow eyes registered shock, and it backed away a few steps. It was then that I caught sight of the three men who’d held the second rope. They were running away. The other hook still hung from the dragon’s hind quarter, pierced deeply into its hip.

  I leaped forward and slashed at the beast again, catching it across the chest again. The creature let out a yelp of pain. Something in my mind registered this was not a pure dragon and that he was not my enemy. That thought gave me a brief moment of clarity. I seriously doubted this dragon had instigated the fight, or the men would have been dead before I arrived. They only got their hooks into him because they’d caught him off guard, and he hadn’t wanted to kill the humans. There was no other way they could have possibly captured him.

  “Go!” I screamed at it. “I can’t control myself much longer.”

  The sword shook in my hand with the need to attack and kill him. Understanding flashed in the dragon’s eyes. For a second, I could see the man inside and his desperate need for survival. He unfurled his wings. In his weakened condition, it took several tries for him to get off the ground. As my slayer instincts took over once more and I leaped forward with my blade, he finally found the strength and lifted into the air. My sword missed him by mere inches.

  I watched him fly away. A part of me wished I’d finished him off since he had killed one human, but the other part was relieved I hadn’t. He’d only been defending himself. After he was out of sight, I turned around. The two bikers I’d tossed were sitting up, gripping their heads. The other three were standing next to them and glaring at me.

  “What the fuck?” a forty-something man wearing a black t-shirt, jeans, and boots asked. His head was bare, but he had a thick, brown goatee and his arms were covered in tattoos. “You just got our friend killed.”

  “No, you did that,” I said, walking up to him. “What were you thinking attacking a dragon? You’re lucky the rest of you are still alive.”

  One of the guys on the ground stared up at me. A touch of blood stained his short, blond hair where his head had hit the pavement. There was a mixture of pain and anger in his eyes. “One of them took my son last night. We’re gonna kill every damn dragon we find until I get my kid back.”

  “Which you fucked up by getting in our way,” the man with the goatee said to me with a growl.

  Not another child, I thought, a chill running through me.

  If only I’d been able to kill Matrika the other day, the boy would still be with his father. I gave the biker on the ground a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry to hear about your son, but that wasn’t the dragon who took him. It’s a green one taking children, not red.”

  “What the hell difference does it make?” Goatee guy took a menacing step toward me.

  I stood my ground. He’d seen what I could do, otherwise he would have attacked me already. All he was doing now was posturing because his buddies were watching.

  “The red ones can shift into humans, and they’re sympathetic to us. The green ones are pure dragons. They’re the ones you need to be worried about.”

  “That’s the biggest bullshit story I’ve ever heard,” he said, spitting on the ground. “There ain’t no dragons turnin’ into humans.”

  “She’s telling the truth,” Conrad said, walking up. I silently willed him back to the truck, but he didn’t get the message.

  One of the other bikers frowned. “How’d you survive the flames?”

  “Yeah,” another guy seconded. “That dragon burned Charlie like he was nothin’, but she ain’t even got so much as a sunburn. I seen some crazy shit lately, but that takes the cake.”

  There was no point in lying to them. “I’m a dragon slayer.”

  Several of them laughed, and the goatee guy pointed at me. “You? You’ve got to be kiddin’ me.”

  “I survived the flames didn’t I?” I lifted a brow. “How else would you explain it?”

  He shifted on his feet. “I ain’t figured that part out yet.”

  Conrad touched my arm. “Bailey, let’s go. We’ve got dragons to hunt if we’re goin’ to save those kids.”

  The man with the missing son struggled to his feet. “What’s he talking about?”

  “Your son isn’t the first one to be taken—there’s more. I’m trying to find them,” I said.

  “They could be anywhere.” He swung his arm out for emphasis. “How you gonna find them?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve got sources in town who can help me. I will find the kids,” I swore.

  Goatee guy barked at him, “Don’t be gettin’ your hopes up, Larry. She’s just a little girl. Ain’t no way she’s gonna get your kid or anyone else’s free from dragons. Not even with her friend there.”

  Conrad glanced at me, amusement in his brown eyes. “I love how they always underestimate you.”

  “Easy for you to say.” I sighed. It was starting to get old.

  Larry looked at the goatee guy. “Boss, you missed it, but that little girl tossed me and Bruce twenty feet through the air like it was nothin’. Then she got two good strikes on that dragon before she scared him off. If she ain’t a dragon slayer, then I don’t know what the fuck she is.”

  The “boss” shifted on his feet, still undecided. Conrad was right that we didn’t have time for this. I took hold of Larry’s arm. “Look, I’m sorry about throwing you and busting your head, but I promise I’ll do everything I can to get your son back. Please d
on’t attack any more dragons in the meantime. It’s only going to get you and more of your friends killed.”

  He stared at me for a full minute before nodding. “How will I know if you find my kid?”

  I mulled that over and then a simple solution came to me. “Listen to the radio. I’ll get Hank to spread the word once I’ve got the children.”

  “Alright,” he agreed, though I could still hear a note of skepticism in his voice.

  I glanced at the “boss man” and found he hadn’t softened a bit. “Keep these guys safe, will you?

  “That ain’t none of your concern.” He crossed his arms.

  Except that it was, whether either of us liked it or not.

  Chapter 13

  Ruari

  The hook bit into Ruari’s hip with a vengeance, digging into the bone farther every time he jostled it. Blood filled his mouth from puncture wounds by the second hook, the human bullets made his belly ache where they’d embedded into his scales and skin, and the cuts the slayer had made across his chest stung with every beat of his wings. He didn’t have the same pain tolerance as his brothers. His father, the pendragon, had bemoaned Ruari’s weakness more than once—to his shame.

  He flew for as long as he could before his suffering became too great. The Taugud territory was just up ahead. Ruari spotted a place to land—a house in the middle of a neighborhood with a large backyard and a cove of trees at the far end. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do. His body couldn’t begin to heal, or even stop bleeding, if he didn’t rest for a few minutes.

  Ruari flared his wings and slowed his descent as best he could. It wasn’t enough. He crashed into the ground like a fledgling who’d just taken his first flight and rolled twice before coming to a stop. His right wing crumpled beneath him. It was all he could do to keep from growling as pain shot through every part of his body. Those crazy humans had attacked him for no reason. He had been minding his own business on a mission to complete his father’s task, which was to locate Shadowan and Thamaran lairs. While surveying a large human building and flying low to reduce his chances of being seen, the men had leaped out from underneath an awning and threw hooks into him.

  There had been no time to fly away. He was such a fushka for not scenting the humans beforehand and redirecting his flight path. His father was always saying he did not have the mindset of a warrior, and today he would have been proven right, but Ruari was determined to change the pendragon’s mind. He could travel through enemy territory without getting caught. The humans were just so small and unintimidating that he had never paid much attention to them before.

  He would not make that mistake again.

  Twisting his head around, he inspected the hook. It was buried deep within his hip, going through the bone. If he blew fire on it, the flames would only melt the section of metal that protruded out of him. The remaining half inside would still be there. The only way to be certain he disintegrated the whole hook and ridded himself of the bullets littering his belly was to shift to human form. No foreign objects would survive that process. It was risky changing so close to Shadowan lands, though. He’d stopped right along the border. If they caught him alone and vulnerable, he would surely be dead, and his father would likely say good riddance.

  Ruari listened carefully for anyone nearby—human or dragon. Other than the chirping of birds and the sound of a dog barking in the distance, he heard nothing else. He sniffed the air next, inhaling a myriad of scents—flowers, various types of small animals, cat urine, and a hint of rain coming soon. Ruari found no immediate threats to worry about.

  He took a deep breath and let his inner fire consume him. The process was not without pain, but unlike his wounds, it passed quickly. In less than a minute, he stood naked in his human form. His skin was covered with open wounds and blood. He could have pulled his camrium clothing from shiggara, but he did not wish to soil them.

  That thought triggered a memory. Was it his imagination or had the slayer been wearing camrium warrior clothing? He had been in so much pain and struggling so hard to get free that the memory of her was unclear. She had certainly been wearing black, and she had black hair. He might have mistaken her for a shifter if not for her scent. Ruari remembered that well enough—as any dragon would—and it had been distinctly human. If she did have camrium clothing, someone had given it to her, but why? Who in his toriq would wish to help a slayer? He did not have time to investigate it now with his father’s task still unfinished, but he would be on the lookout for her potential ally. There were so many things he could do with that information.

  Limping toward a tree, Ruari sat and leaned against it. All the bugs nearby scurried away, scared off by his dragon heat. There was only one insect that would dare bite a shifter, but it had not been seen since they’d crossed over to Earth. He was rather glad of that, considering it had dangerous venom that could make its victim very ill. Hopefully, that particular bug would stay gone.

  Ruari closed his eyes, desiring a little rest before he flew the rest of the way home. Today had proven disastrous, and it would set him back a couple of days while he recovered, but he’d return to his father’s task as soon as he was able. He could not allow himself to fail. Above all, he wanted to be pendragon—to rule over the toriq and see the respect in his people’s eyes. Zoran and Phoebe already had their regard. Even Aidan, who had always been considered the weakest son, was gaining favor. All his younger brother had to do was perform a few minor feats in recent months and opinion changed as swiftly as a breeze.

  Ruari ground his jaw. No matter what he did, it never seemed to be enough. He caught the suspicious looks they all gave him. Every bad thing that happened, they blamed him for it. He was never given a chance to defend himself—to prove he wasn’t as bad as they thought. Sure, he was no saint, and he would take advantage of another’s weaknesses, but that was the way of the dragons. It was just his wretched luck that terrible things happened around him. Such as today and how those humans attacked him without provocation. Sometimes he wondered if a sorcerer had cursed him.

  As much as he hated to admit it, the dragon slayer may have saved his life today. If not for her pulling those humans away, they may have found a way to do him grave injury. They would have continued shooting their little projectiles into his body until they broke past his thick skin and scales to his internal organs. Or worse yet, they might have decided to use a more effective weapon. The men had already figured out his belly was his most vulnerable area, and once they saw his blood pouring from the first wound they created there, they’d begun targeting his stomach. He’d been at their mercy and thought he might die.

  He rubbed at his stomach, thankful that the bullets were gone now and he’d stopped bleeding. His skin was even beginning to knit back together. Ruari felt along his cheeks and jaw next, noting the raw punctures there from where the hook had gone in and come back out. With his face such a mess, he would have to avoid being seen by anyone when he returned to the fortress. It would likely take the rest of the day for his skin to smooth back over and another day before his internal injuries healed enough to risk leaving again. Never mind his hip, which had swollen considerably in the last few minutes while he sat. Bones healed the slowest of all and that hook had done severe damage despite being human made. Thicker metals such as that could resist dragon heat for much longer than the thinner ones, which melted quicker.

  Curse, Zorya.

  Ruari had to find two sizeable pure dragon dens, identify the number residing in each, and report them to his father within ten days. With this setback, how would he manage it? One would think it would be an easy task, but their kind had a way of naturally obscuring their homes. They had a sort of magic that cloaked any place they established as a den, confining their scent and sounds to a very close range. An outsider more or less had to stumble upon it to find it—unless they already knew where the den was located, which was his job.

  Ruari looked up at the sky and estimated an hour had passed. The rest
of his wounds had stopped bleeding, and the skin had knit back together enough it should not reopen. On the inside, he still had a great deal of healing to do, but he didn’t have time to wait for that.

  He tentatively climbed to his feet, testing his body. Ruari winced at the pain in his hip, hardly able to put weight on it. Few places on him didn’t hurt, but that one was by far the worst. His father would have told him he was a weakling for letting his wounds affect him so much. That made one more reason he had to excel at the pendragon’s task if he wanted to be chosen for the Bitkal. Under no circumstances could he give the excuse he’d been attacked and wounded by humans. His whole toriq would laugh at him.

  After doing a thorough survey of the area around him, he changed into his dragon form. The strain of shifting twice in a short time weakened him further, but at least his wounds were not as bad as when he first landed. Ruari pushed off the ground, favoring his hip as he did so, and lifted into the air. Not wanting to be caught off guard again, he regularly checked his surroundings by sight, scent, and sound. His former battle instructor had pushed that point over and over when he was young. He’d finally learned his lesson.

  Up ahead, he caught sight of two red dragons flying next to each other through the sky. The roving guards took note of him as they passed and let out a greeting roar. Ruari usually didn’t bother with such pleasantries—he was the pendragon’s son after all—but he was so relieved to be nearing the fortress that he made a greeting call back. Then he continued on his way, doing his best to show no sign that he had been injured. If anyone noticed, they’d question him about it, and he couldn’t risk that. All it would take was a glimpse of his wounds to see the damage had not been done by a dragon.

  He caught sight of the fortress ahead. Ruari was tempted to head toward the tunnel entrance, but there were too many guards roaming around who had already spotted him. Dragons didn’t use the underground passages except during sieges or for clandestine purposes. They’d take note if he made use of them now.