Pursuing Flight

by C. I. Black

  The image of his room wavered, and a heavy security door appeared, semi-transposed over his bed.

  Almost… there, Becca thought.

  A weight flooded his limbs and he stumbled.

  Shit. Except he had no idea if that was his thought or hers.

  The world darkened and twisted— no, he’d stepped into his gate—? No, he’d…?

  His chest heaved, each breath an effort, each step a marathon. He had to get free. Had to get out of there. Had—

  Had to control his gate, or—

  His foot hit something hard and the world lurched into focus. Shadows surrounded him and a freezing wind stung his cheeks. He faced a brick wall with a rusted fire escape bolted into it beside a barred, grimy window. To his right, across a street edged with filthy small snow banks, was some kind of square, with half a dozen leafless miniature trees in massive concrete boxes, a wide set of curving steps leading up to the front of a high-rise, and some kind of sweeping metal modern art installation with metal umbrellas hanging from it.

  Something crashed, and Becca’s metal security door flickered into sight over the brick wall. The door swung back toward him… her… and she staggered through, clutching at the frame to get her bearings. Across a small patio sat two picnic tables surrounded by piles of snow, and on either side of her stretched an ice-slicked walkway. The path to her right was shorter than the left and had more light. There’d be people there. Help. She just had to make it along the icy walkway, up those stairs to that… arm of metal with two umbrellas hanging from it?

  Shit.

  The muscles in Nero’s arm and chest seized. He’d gated right to her, without a weapon or a winter coat, and barely in control of his body, let alone his magic.

  7

  More pain lanced through Nero’s body, and he clenched his teeth, fighting the impending convulsion as he forced his focus from inside Becca, on the walkway, back into his body, standing in the alley. He needed to get his bearings so he could gate home, grab a gun — humans didn’t panic as much if it was a gun instead of a sword — and return. Back in two flashes—

  Except his last gate hadn’t sent him where he’d wanted to go. There was no guarantee he’d be able to manage gating home and back.

  Mother of All! He was just going to have to make it work. He couldn’t let Becca continue to endanger his puzur. And the one horrible option, of leaving her to whoever was attacking her, wouldn’t work since they were trying to capture and not kill her.

  Not that killing her was an option. She didn’t deserve any of this—

  Except she endangered everything.

  God damn it. Make up your mind.

  Someone yelled and his sight jumped back into Becca as she glanced over her shoulder toward the security door. She’d gotten farther than he would have expected, given the pain and weight dragging at her body and thoughts. Almost thirty feet from the door — and toward him.

  A man in full tactical gear rushed out of the doorway and pointed his Taser at her. If he hit her, she’d go down, and then Nero would have to figure out how to break into the facility to get her out.

  If he was smart, that was what he’d do.

  But Becca’s essence dug deeper into his. She wasn’t going to remain a prisoner. There wouldn’t be another opportunity to escape this place, this nightmare, this… this everything.

  Another tremor clenched Nero’s arm and chest.

  “I’m not going back,” she said.

  The guy — he looked more like a soldier than a security guard — holstered his weapon and sneered. “How are you going to stop me, little girl?”

  “Little girl?” Did she look that helpless? God, she was that helpless, and she was sick and tired of it. Dream or no dream, it was time to fight back.

  Her rage at being a prisoner in a nightmare swept through Nero. She growled, the sound surging through the mental connection and igniting a growl within Nero, then she lunged at the security guard.

  Nero’s mind stuttered, his vision half in her, half in himself. She could barely stand, let alone fight. There was no way she could win this — and it didn’t matter how impressed he was at her tenacity.

  God damn it. Going home and returning was no longer an option.

  He hissed his power word and summoned a gate, praying that even though it was still early evening, the dark and cold would have kept most people inside, and they wouldn’t notice it. He leapt through, concentrating on the wall behind the security guard, but the gate tossed him out in the middle of the square, materializing in the base of the metal umbrella art.

  The muscles in his chest seized and his knees buckled. He wrenched forward, forcing his legs to hold him. The impending seizure must have screwed up his gate again. At least he hadn’t accidentally jumped to the other side of the world.

  Adrenaline roared through the pain and strange weight that dragged at Becca and him. The security guard’s eyes flashed wide, and he reached for his weapon, but Becca slammed a hand against his wrist, impeding his draw, and rammed her other hand against his nose.

  His head jerked back, but he didn’t fall, and dove in with his own strike to her ribs.

  Nero yanked his mind back to his body. Teeth clenched against the threatening tremors, he raced across the square to the three wide steps leading up to the front of the high rise.

  Pain exploded through his side— Becca’s side, and the burn in his chest grew into an inferno. Her ribs were broken. The fall down the stairs had cracked them, and the security guard had finished the job. He was going to capture her, and the nightmare would never end.

  It will end. I promise. And killing her was no longer an option.

  You’re part of the nightmare. You’ll promise anything to keep me trapped.

  Except killing her was the best option.

  Everything else aside, he had to ensure the safety of his puzur and his position as dugga and doyen of the Major Black Coterie. Killing her was the only option.

  Nero reached the top step and the sizzle of a powerful gatelock rushed over him, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

  Becca’s thoughts stuttered within his. What the hell was that?

  The security guard grabbed for the front of her hospital gown and she jerked back, barely escaping.

  A gatelock. Which meant whoever was holding her had to be a dragon with a sorcerer’s magical ability.

  Dragons aren’t real, Becca hissed, the force of her determination making Nero’s knees buckle, and a tremor threatened to burst into full convulsions. You’re not real. There is no devil, you’re not his master, and I’m getting the hell out of this nightmare.

  She screamed and punched at the security guard’s face. He sidestepped her attack, exposing his side, and she seized the tactical knife at his hip, drew it, and rammed it into his thigh.

  He howled and staggered back as Nero ran around the building’s corner and stumbled to a halt. A red aura blazed around a stunning, emaciated woman with pale, almost luminescent skin and long wild black hair. For a second, Nero had no breath or thought. There was only her, with her ferocious power, a power so strong that if her aura hadn’t been flickering, indicating she was a human mage, he would have assumed she was an ancient red drake, old enough to challenge Hunter for seniority. She looked like she’d barely eaten in months, and while her skin was clean, her hair looked like it hadn’t been combed in months, either. She hadn’t deserved this. Any of it.

  Behind her, the security door crashed open and the bulky man with the bushy beard bolted out. He also wore a hospital gown and had a wavering aura, although it was half as powerful as Becca’s and yellow instead of red. Another human mage.

  “Werner—” Becca took a staggering step toward him.

  “Run.” Werner rushed to her and rammed the security guard into the wall. He crumpled to the ground.

  “Glenn? The others?” Becca gasped.

  “We’ll have to come back for them.” He grabbed her arm to steady her, but his gaze jump
ed over her shoulder to Nero. “We have to go. Now.”

  The security door banged open again and five more men in tactical gear stormed out.

  “Shit.” Werner released her and leapt at them, shoving them back toward the door. “Run. I’ll catch up.”

  “But—”

  “I can handle them.” He grabbed at the closest guy, who scrambled out of reach.

  “Don’t let him touch you,” one of the other men said, drawing his Taser.

  “Yeah,” Werner said, a wildness lighting his eyes, “don’t let me touch you.” He lunged in again, yanking one of the men between him and the guy with the Taser.

  A flicker of hesitation flared within Becca. She didn’t run from a fight. But the weight dragging at her thoughts and body consumed the hesitation, and darkness swarmed at the edge of her vision. She was a liability. All Werner needed to do was distract them enough for her to get away, then he could run, too. It was a terrible plan, but it was the only one they had.

  She turned to run up the path toward Nero.

  “Not toward him,” Werner yelled.

  Becca’s gaze jumped to Nero’s. Heat fluttered in his chest, followed by searing agony and a tremor threatening an overwhelming convulsion.

  “You,” she gasped, her shock snapping through Nero and wrenching his gaze back into hers. “You’re the devil’s master.” For a second, he saw himself as she saw him, a man with a square jaw and dark, intense eyes who exuded lithe danger. His posture, ready for battle, promised a honed, muscular body, and the sense of surging darkness clinging around him — which had to be her not quite seeing, but sensing, his dragon’s aura — promised efficient death. He knew he wasn’t the biggest drake around — Grey and Tobias both had human vessels that made him look small, and even Hunter’s new vessel was still bigger than his — but he’d always had a hardened presence that he’d never been able to hide that made drakes fear him. “Dugga.”

  “I’ll make a path this way,” Werner yelled, jerking her attention back to him. He grabbed one of the men and slapped his palm against the man’s cheek. The man heaved against Werner’s grip and screamed as Werner rammed him into two of the other men.

  The security door flew open again, and three more men stormed out between her and Werner. She wasn’t going to make it, and even if she did, that wouldn’t help Nero deal with her.

  And above all, he had to remember he had to deal with her.

  The new men barreled toward her. Another flicker of hesitation.

  Fight or run? Run. One unarmed guy was better than three who are armed.

  I’m not your enemy, Nero thought at her.

  I don’t believe you. She bolted toward him, and the men in tactical gear followed.

  Nero subvocalized his power word, outstretched his hand, and shot bursts of wind into their chests, slamming them against the wall.

  Becca’s eyes widened. Her thoughts stuttered, making Nero’s thoughts stutter and his muscles tremble. You have magic, too?

  Footsteps clattered behind Nero. Two more men in tactical gear rushed toward him from the front of the high rise. None of them had an aura, but that didn’t mean the dragon who’d cast the gatelock on the building wasn’t using humans for security.

  He had to get out of there before he was recognized, and he had to take Becca with him.

  He sent another blast of wind toward the new assailants, but white lightning sliced through his head and his magic faltered, knocking only one of them to the ground.

  Shit.

  More pain burst through Nero, sweeping through his chest. His attention jumped back to Becca, too slowly, as if he were somehow being mentally dragged down by whatever was affecting her. One of the men had shoved her against the wall. The pain in Nero’s chest was from her broken ribs.

  Jeez. He had to sever their connection before he completely lost it. And to do that, he needed a moment to catch his breath and concentration — something that wasn’t going to happen right then.

  She slashed at the security guard’s face with the tactical knife, but couldn’t get the leverage for any kind of strength, and he batted her attack away. “You’re coming with me.”

  Nero rushed toward them.

  “I’m not going back.” She rammed her knee into the guard’s groin. His grip weakened, and Nero shot a blast of wind at him. It shoved him back a step, onto a patch of ice, and he lost his balance.

  Nero grabbed Becca’s arm. “Come on.”

  She wrenched from his grip. “I’m not going back there, either.”

  “I’m not here to hurt you.”

  “Becca,” Werner yelled. His aura flared as he captured the face of one of the men, who went rigid and screamed.

  The man she’d kneed drew his Taser and fired. Nero whipped out a thread of wind, but the muscles in his chest seized. His magic faltered. He wasn’t going to stop the attack, and with their strange mental connection, he had no idea if he’d go down when she did.

  He lurched in front of her, and the barbs bit into his back and shoulder.

  8

  Every muscle in Nero’s body jerked taut, and the white lightning shooting through his head engulfed his whole body. Time stuttered. People around him yelled, fought, ran closer, but he was frozen, locked tight, only his thoughts whirling as if making up for the rest of his enforced stillness.

  Werner shoved a guard into another one, making a hole in the chaos for Becca to slip through. She bolted, but the guard who’d been shoved lurched forward and grabbed her arm.

  Darkness billowed across Nero’s senses, but he didn’t know if it came from within him or her.

  She staggered.

  Her. The weakness was hers.

  She slashed at the guard’s wrist with her knife, but he wrenched her off balance and the cut went wide.

  Every muscle in Nero’s body went slack and pain returned to just screaming through his chest and head. Time lurched back to normal. His knees buckled, and he yanked his wind around him before he could fall.

  Becca slashed again at the guard holding her wrist, but her attacks were weak and growing weaker. The adrenaline that had burned through the haze was waning, and she was going to collapse. Her weight crushed within him and her thoughts narrowed to one focused word: freedom.

  The man who’d shot Nero with the Taser rushed toward him. Nero knocked him back with a blast of wind and staggered toward Becca.

  The extra men from behind were almost on them, and he had no idea if he had the force of will right now to cut deep enough with his wind to stop them. Three of the original five were on the ground, and he couldn’t tell if Werner had killed them or not — or even what type of magic the human mage had used to subdue them — but that still left five remaining, and the two more who were fast approaching.

  “There are too many,” Nero said. “We have to get out of here.”

  Werner’s gaze snapped to him. “We’re not doing anything.” He jerked his attention back to the fight and rammed an elbow into the gut of the closest guard.

  The man grunted but didn’t go down, and another guard raised his Taser and aimed at Werner.

  Nero shot wind into Taser Guy, slamming him over the picnic tables and snow bank and into the high rise wall on the other side of the patio.

  “You can argue semantics after we’ve escaped.” And once they were out of the gatelock. Hopefully, Werner couldn’t summon a gate, and Nero could at least control where they went. Whether Werner was another product of Zenobia’s coup or not, it didn’t matter. He was a mage, which meant Nero was going to have to deal with him. Hopefully dealing would mean staying sane and joining the puzur.

  The guard on Becca grabbed for her other wrist. With her weakened muscles, if he captured both her hands, she’d be lost. She heaved to the side, her foot hit ice, and she slipped. Her will snapped tight around Nero’s essence and shot another blast of agony through his skull.

  With a gasp, Nero whipped a thread of wind against the guy’s hand, making him release Becca, t
hen drew more wind to shove the guy back, but the muscles in Nero’s chest clenched. Becca groaned. Her eyes rolled back and the tremor snapped taut, lancing through Nero’s body. She was going down and taking him with her.

  The guard who’d had her before lunged in, reaching for her knife.

  Nero’s wind stuttered. Darkness rushed around his vision, razor sharp, with every muscle contracted. He couldn’t help her, and while one of the men on Werner had dropped unconscious to the ground, the other had scrambled out of reach and drawn his Taser. They weren’t going to get to her in time.

  Fight, Nero barked, half to Becca and half to himself, to break through the convulsion.

  Becca’s eyes flew open. “Get out of my head.” She slashed her knife at the guard’s hands. He dodged the attack but stepped in close enough to grab her.

  Fighting wasn’t working. Their only option was to run.

  Nero shot another blast at the man on Becca. It lurched halfway to the target, threatening to vanish. He ground his teeth, forcing more of his will behind his magic, and it gained enough strength to shove the man out of reach.

  Becca leaned against the wall, the knife still held ready but the rest of her body sagging with exhaustion. Her lids dipped as if she was about to lose consciousness, and the weight within Nero swelled.

  “I said fight.” Nero slammed wind into the next closest guy, tossing him over the picnic tables and crashing into the wall of the opposite high rise with a sickening crunch. He forced a third gust at the two on Werner — his power stuttering out halfway and only managing to shove them back a few feet — and reached for Becca. With a lasso of wind, he captured her knife hand, steadying it long enough to hold it in place while he snaked his other hand across the back of her waist, pulled her against his side, and took her weight.