Marcus’s hand shot out. “There’s no time for that. We need to leave now. We need to get to shelter. You two run ahead of me. The Brooklyn Museum is nearby. We can hide in there. Go!”
I had no idea what was going on, but I trusted Marcus. I snatched Hazel’s hand, breaking into a run over the park’s grass. We were nowhere near the exit. I pumped my arms, turning my head to face Marcus. “Should we tell the people around us?”
“You can try,” he said, hardly breaking a sweat.
As we ran, I cupped my hands around my mouth, shouting “Dragons!”
Marcus joined in, shouting along with me. A few people strolling through the parks stopped to stare at us, then to look at the skies. Screams pierced the air.
It only took a few moments for the chaos to begin. The sky began to darken; cauldron-black clouds rolled in. The temperature dropped, and cold winds whispered over my skin. Hot streaks of fire streaked the sky. The winged forms circled overhead.
Dragons were drawn to beauty, and had a tendency to capture women. I didn’t think they had many scruples about underage girls, and they’d come after Hazel in a heartbeat.
So much for the gods-damned truce.
Thunder rumbled over the horizon, and heavy drops of rain began falling from the sky, hammering against my skin. I could see the museum in my sights now—the enormous, classical stone structure, the size of several city blocks. It would be the perfect place to hide. I turned to Hazel, who was starting to fall behind, tears streaking her pale cheeks.
“Hurry!” I shrieked, slowing my pace.
Hazel had frozen again, staring up at the sky, her entire body trembling. She was pointing. “They’re coming!” she whispered.
I stole a glance at the sky, and my heart threatened to gallop out of my chest. Darkening the skies above us was a horde of dragons, more than I’d ever seen in one place.
This wasn’t a repeat of New York’s prior attack. This was much, much worse.
Given how low they were flying, and the speed at which they were racing through the roiling clouds, I wasn’t sure we’d make it to the library.
A single, coppery feather floated from the sky. Light from a flash of lightning sparked off the quill, and a hollow opened in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t know what I was looking at, but the ancient part of my brain told me to run—now.
Marcus’s hand was on my back, soothing me. “We won’t make it to the museum.” He pointed to the right, at a small, glass-walled building. “Head for the cafe. It’s not perfect, but we just need to get inside.”
Hazel was still gaping at the oncoming dragons, her entire body trembling.
I grabbed her arm, pulling her along. “Hazel! Snap out of it!”
Marcus—my savior—swooped in to pick her up, carrying her in his arms. We turned, ready to run for the cafe, and a thundering crash trembled the earth behind us. The sound sent a shock of fear into my heart.
Pulse racing, skin cold with fear, I turned to see a dragon standing directly behind us, his yellow eyes locked on me.
Chapter 3
I knew better than to look directly into its eyes. To look a dragon in the eye invited a total mental breakdown.
But no matter where I looked, there was no way to run. Turning your back on a dragon meant instant death. Unfortunately, to stand before a dragon merely meant a slightly slower death, but perhaps it would buy us some time. Maybe someone more beautiful would distract it.
Lighting cracked the sky, gleaming off the creature’s dark, oily hide. The thing was the size of a city bus, its spiked tail swishing lazily behind it. Inwardly, I cursed myself for failing to kill those two dragon shifters in the night club.
In human form, they could be killed as easily as any other demon. In their dragon forms, not so much.
In the driving rain, Marcus stood before us, shielding us with his arms outstretched. He didn’t want the dragons to see our faces—to see our youth, our beauty.
Marcus had bragged that nothing was a threat to him, that he’d survived for centuries without so much has a scratch. But dragons were different. Dragons hides were practically invulnerable, susceptible only to destruction with one sword—a sword we didn’t have.
What did I have? A damned hairpin.
Still, the hairpin could have its uses. The only other option was the eyes—those large, golden orbs.
Slowly, his eyes on the dragon, Marcus shielded us with his arms and began inching backward. Moving slowly, trying not to alarm the creature, I pulled the hairpin from my hair.
“Stay behind me,” Marcus whispered.
Hazel’s fear was palpable, her breathing coming in short, sharp gasps. Her fingers were tightened into fists, knuckles white.
“Glamour,” I whispered. If she could turn herself into an aged hag, the dragons would leave her alone.
She turned to me, staring, her eyes wide, and that was when I really began to panic. By the look on her face, her mouth agape, I could tell she was losing it, completely shutting down inside. Even if I screamed at her to glamour herself, she wouldn’t listen.
“We have to run, Ruby!” she shouted, too loudly.
I pressed my finger to my lips, trying to silence her. But she was already turning to run. She took one step, two—
My heart slammed against my ribs, my body surging with terror.
The dragon threw back his head, his scream ripping through the air, piercing me to the bone. The earth shuddered and lurched.
I summoned more of the succubus glamour, intensifying the illusion—the midnight eyes, the deep golden skin. Marcus tried to shield me from the dragon’s view, but I slipped in front of him, hitting the dragon with the full force of my succubus allure.
“Right here, dragon!” I shouted, silently praying Hazel would get away.
The rain pelted my body, making my dress stick to my skin. I stared into the dragon’s ancient, reptilian face, barely managing to avoid its eyes. He paused, no longer looking at my sister. His golden eyes were locked on me now, my sister forgotten.
“Ruby!” Marcus shouted.
My gaze flicked to him. He’d drawn a knife—a thin, silver blade. If the dragon got too close to me, Marcus would try to stab him.
But no one could aim like I could. I narrowed my eyes, staring at the dragon through the rain. With a lightning-fast movement, I threw the hairpin, and it found its mark—right in the dragon’s eye.
The creature’s scream rent the skies; its body bucked and flailed. Marcus leapt into the air, catching hold of the spikes that lined its spine.
My breath caught in my throat as I watched him shimmy into position on the dragon’s back, his dark hair soaked with rain. The monster reared up, trying to throw him off. Marcus was yelling at me to run, but I ignored him. No way was I leaving him here alone.
Moving in a blur of darkness, Marcus shifted his position, climbing higher on the dragon’s neck. Gripping the creature’s spiked head, he reared back his arm and slammed the knife into the dragon’s remaining eye, completely blinding him. As the dragon flailed, trying to throw him off, Marcus drove the blade in further, trying to reach the beasts brain.
Gods below, he was breathtaking.
At last, with Marcus’s arm rammed into its eye—nearly up to the elbow—the dragon staggered. It heaved and fell to the ground, slamming against the earth. Marcus ripped his arm from the dragon’s skull, his skin coated in oily, crimson blood. Dragon’s blood stained the earth, mingling with the rain.
Tears stung my eyes as I looked at Marcus. “Let’s go find Hazel!” I shouted.
He nodded, gripping his blood-stained knife.
Around us, dragons swooped down to the earth, their vast wingspans blackening the skies above us.
We hurried to a nearby cherry tree, shielding ourselves a little from the view of the dragons that circled above us. From here, we could try to plan our route. With Marcus’s sensitive vision, he might be able to catch a glimpse of Hazel.
I scanned the horizon, tryin
g to tune out the destruction around me. A large, crimson-scaled dragon swooped lower, opening his mouth to sear the sky with a white-hot stream of fire.
I knew that dragon. He wasn’t like the others. He was the Drake, and he’d burned half of New York to the ground once before. A silver sheen covered the front of his blood-red scales—that was the sword Excalibur, formed into part of his body. The Drake alone was the only creature who could hurt the other dragons—too bad he’d was on their side.
“Marcus!” I pointed at the Drake, who was heading for the museum. Cold dread welled in my chest. “Is that where Hazel went?”
The Drake swooped lower, breathing a stream of flames onto the stone building—a sharp line of platinum flames streaking across the iron gray sky, hot enough to melt rock.
“I don’t see her,” Marcus said quietly. “I can’t smell her, either.”
Icy fear rippled over my skin. She’d gone to the museum, hadn’t she? My heart thrummed in my chest. “Let’s run for the museum. We have to get her out of there before the Drake burns the whole thing down. You remember what happened before.”
He turned to me, cupping my cheek, stroking my skin gently. “You stay here under the tree. Try to hide from them. Glamour yourself. Can you glamour yourself as a tree? I’ve never known what your limitations are.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m not sending you out there alone. I helped you take down that last dragon.”
“You’re fresh out of hairpins, my love.”
I held out my hand. “Give me your other knife. I know you always carry two.”
His jaw clenched, and he reached behind his back, pulling out his second stiletto.
I grabbed it from him. “Not the kind of stilettos I’m used to, but I still know how to use it.”
He leaned in, kissing me hard on the lips—quickly and deeply, as if it would be our last. His warm, cedar scent enveloped me. He pulled away, staring into my eyes. “Just glamour yourself. Before we run for the museum, glamour yourself as something ugly.”
“Right.” I closed my eyes, summoning a glamour: an old man with a beer gut, dressed in a mustard-stained wife-beater and sweatpants. White whiskers sprang from my chin and cheeks.
Marcus stared at me, his lip curling slightly. “Mr. Owens from the bus stop? I’m glad I kissed you before.”
“Mr. Owens at your service. Let’s kill some dragons, shall we?”
We broke into a sprint across the park’s rain-slicked grass, moving faster this time, our footsteps pounding the earth. Side-by-side, just the way we belonged. Hazel hadn’t been able to run as fast as us, but as a fully grown fae I could move as swiftly as a vampire.
The wind whipped over my skin. I might look like Mr. Owens, but it was just an illusion. My body was still mine.
The Drake was circling the museum, breathing fire onto its roof. From here, I could see lights flashing in the library, hear the alarm bells ringing loudly among the screams. Humans were running from the building now, and I tried to sharpen my vision, searching for Hazel’s pale skin and dark hair.
Then again, if she’d glamoured herself like she should have, who the fuck knew what she looked like?
Through labored breaths, I asked Marcus, “How will we recognize her?”
He sniffed the air. “I’ll smell her when we get close enough. She smells like blackberries.”
“Right.”
We were closing in on the Brooklyn Museum now, as everyone else fled in the other direction—moving toward the stately steps that curved around the front of the building.
Marcus sniffed the air. “She’s here. I smell her. Hazel!” He shouted into the fleeing crowd.
An older man was running toward us, his eyes wide open with terror. Then Hazel dropped the glamour, raising her arms in the air. “Marcus! I’m here!”
I ground to a halt. “Hazel! Keep your glamour up!”
Claws of dread sunk into my chest. I couldn’t let the dragons destroy my world again.
Chapter 4
Before the front steps of the Brooklyn Museum, a green-scaled dragon swooped lower, claws outstretched. He landed with a boom on the earth behind Hazel, then a long, pointed tongue shot out as he licked his teeth.
I shot a nervous glance at Marcus. We’d have to use our knives again, maybe take him down through his eyes. “Glamour!” I shouted at Hazel.
Within moments, she’d raised her glamour again, taking on the guise of an old man—grizzled beard spilling over a ripped flannel shirt. But it was too late. The dragon had already seen what she was, was already closing in on her. In her panic, her glamour was fading already, her black hair shining through.
I had to act fast. I summoned my own glamour, letting it ripple over my body in waves of magic. The succubus with the cherry-red hair—a dragon’s favorite—was back.
I waved at him seductively. “Oh, dragon, over here!”
Marcus shot me a look of death. He did not appreciate my diversion tactics. But he already had another dragon to contend with—an orange-eyed creature that crawled up behind him.
I blocked that one out, focusing on the first one. This time I would try to climb the dragon’s back. I could throw the knife, but I didn’t want to lose my only weapon. I just needed to get it a little lower.
I stepped back, swishing my hips as I moved, trying to hypnotize the creature and avoiding looking into its eyes. Growling, it lowered its head to my level, prowling closer. I had to get everything right, every step in the right place.
When its neck was only a few feet off the ground, I leapt—a dancer’s leap, graceful and precise. I grasped its spikes, then hooked my leg over the back of its neck, careful to avoid impaling myself on its dorsal spikes.
Bucking, the creature tried to throw me off, and I had about two seconds before it succeeded. I gripped Marcus’s knife, slamming it into the first eye. One. The dragon screeched, lifting up on its hind legs, and I clung onto it for dear life. My fingers slipped over its scales.
Nearly there.
I reared back my other arm, slamming it into the dragon’s second eye, my fingers tight around the hilt of the knife. The dragon bucked frantically, and I lost my grip, flying through the air until my body slammed against the ground.
Pain splintered my ribs, but I glanced over at my hand. I was still holding the knife. I hadn’t been able to jam the blade into its brain the way Marcus had done, but I’d blinded it. That would do for now.
I pushed up onto my elbows, staring as the dragon thundered wildly over the grass, its enormous body writhing in pain and confusion.
In the next moment, Marcus was by my side, his own body covered in blood. He slipped an arm around my back, helping to lift me up. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, glancing at Hazel. Her glamour had completely fallen away, and she stood in a pool of dragon’s blood, hugging herself, shivering. Her worst nightmares had come to life today.
I let Marcus help me up, and I eyed the horde of dragons that swarmed above us. Not far from us, the Brooklyn Museum blazed, an inferno in the rainy, gray horizon. A road cut along to our right, and from here I could see cars speeding along the pavement, desperate to flee the dragon’s attack.
I touched Marcus’s chest, feeling the warmth through his soaked T-shirt. “Let’s get Hazel out of here.”
He pointed to the road. “Let’s see if we can get to a car. I can punch through the window and maybe start the engine. If nothing else, we can at least shelter inside one, out of view.”
I turned, beckoning to Hazel. “Let’s go! We have to get out of the park.”
She nodded mutely, and I let her run ahead of us so we didn’t lose track of her. She ran faster this time, speeding across the sodden grass, her black hair plastered to her face in the storm.
As I sprinted, my breath grew ragged in my throat. Around us, the sounds of dragon’s screeching rent the air, sending icy dread right through my bones.
We drew closer to the park’s edge, our feet slamming over the pa
vement as we ran into a parking lot. My heart slammed against my ribs; adrenaline snapped through my nerve endings. On the road just before us, cars sped and screeched, frantic, too fast for the slick road. Two sedans slammed into each other, glass smashing all over the asphalt.
Still, we were nearly there, nearly free.
A row of parked cars lined the road just ahead of us, only twenty yards away. We just needed to get to one, and Marcus could get us inside.
“There!” Marcus shouted, pointing to a black sedan. “I can rip the door open.”
Nearly there. Once we got to the car, we could huddle down, and—
The sound of beating wings interrupted my thoughts, and I whirled, my heart stopping.
Three dragons surrounded us, one of them larger than the rest—his body a deep crimson, eyes burning like fire. Lightning flashed, sparking off his blood-red scales, his silver armor.
The Drake.
The blood drained from my head, and I gripped the knife tighter.
Chapter 5
The Drake spread his wings—fifty feet at least. When lightning struck again, it shone through the leathery skin. Flanking him were two dragon bodyguards, one with a scarred face.
Marcus stood before me, his arms outstretched protectively again. Lightning flashed in the sky, sparking off the Drake’s silvery scales, the sword that had transformed into armor over his body.
If we tried to run now, the Drake would unleash a stream of fire, incinerating us where we stood.
Fuck fuck fuck.
The blood-red dragon stared us down, ready to burn us to ash, and all we had was a set of knives. If we’d known this was coming, we could have avoided the mistake of bringing a knife to a dragon fight.
My legs trembled, and I stared up at the monsters, my brain starting to shut down. The dragon with the scarred face was inching closer, hissing.
Marcus raised the knife, whispering to me, “Get back, Ruby. Back away.”
I swallowed hard, not entirely sure what he had planned. But I trusted him. Turning to Hazel, I tugged on her arm, pulling her back. We moved slowly, carefully, as Marcus blocked us. The two smaller dragons flanked the Drake, like some sort of reptilian bodyguards.
Stories from the Demons of Fire and Night World Page 3
