Catapulting off the top step, he leapt skyward and shifted into dragon form. Black and white scales speckled orange rattled over his body like a fast-moving bush fire. Heat blasted through him. Aggression followed as he unfurled his wings. Orange webbing caught air. With a powerful thrust, he spiraled through the hole in the ceiling. His view of a stormy sky expanded. Night vision sparking, he flew around the church spire and—
“Cyprus—right flank!”
Levin’s voice. A fireball flashed in his periphery.
Cyprus somersaulted into a sideways flip. Green flame streaked past, singeing his wing. Pain pulsed over his shoulder. Cyprus ignored the discomfort. Fucking Grizgunn. Was the bastard actually challenging him in open skies? Shite, he hoped so. The whelp wouldn’t stand a chance. Not against him. Bigger, stronger, more experienced than Grizgunn, he’d descale the male faster than it took to peel an orange.
A lovely plan. One problem with it.
Grizgunn wasn’t stupid. The bastard had brought reinforcements. Eight males strong, the contingent attacked his warriors. In a bright burst of red scales, Wallaig feigned left and banked right, nailing two rogues with his claws on the fly-by. Cyprus grinned and scanned the battle as Kruger attacked a rogue head-on and Levin grabbed another by the tail. With a snarl, his warrior dragged the male backwards through the air. Wing-flapping, the rogue shrieked. Levin growled and, whirling around, slammed the turquoise-scaled idiot skull-first into the side of a building.
Brick crumbled into the street below.
The scent of dragon blood filled the air.
The sky broke open. Rain fell as lightning flashed across the night sky.
Raindrops peppered him, then slid along his scales. Cyprus barely noticed. Busy hunting for Grizgunn’s blue scales in the storm glow, he increased his wing-speed and watched Wallaig gut a male. A violent north wind blew in. He scanned the horizon beyond the city, searching for the female’s unique energy signal, trying to see through smoke and rain. She had to be here, in the fray…somewhere. Grizgunn wasn’t that skilled. No way had he found a way around the fight so fast.
More lightning cracked overhead.
Another dragon roared.
Panic set in. Bloody hell. He couldn’t hear her anymore. The tether connecting him to her kept stretching. Was thinning by the second. Hunting for her, he circled away from the protection of his own pack. “Where the fuck is he?”
“Who?” Green, black-tipped scales flashing, Kruger latched onto a rogue. Triple bladed claws sank into the male’s neck as Kruger drove him backwards. The rogue screamed in pain. Without mercy, his warrior twisted. Bone snapped. The brutal crack echoed, and the male disintegrated, coating Kruger’s scales with ash. “The idiot inside the church?”
“Grizgunn,” he said. “He has a female.”
“For Christ’s sake.” Speed supersonic, navy, gray and gold scales slick with rain, Levin chased down another rogue. “Why didn’t you hammer the arsehole inside?”
Cyprus bared his fangs on a snarl. “The bastard had her by the throat.”
“Ah,” Wallaig said with something close to sympathy. Cyprus cringed. God save him from his own warrior. The older male surpassed eerie on the rising intuitive scale. Wallaig never guessed…at anything. He didn’t need to. His XO read males like open books, unearthing the truth without ever asking a question. “She’s yer mate.”
Bull’s-eye. Dead center. Wallaig was in fine form tonight. “I donnae know. Not for sure.”
“You didn’t get close enough to touch her?” Grabbing a rogue by the hind-leg, his XO turned and threw him at Levin. As Levin murmured “thank ye” and punched the male in the face, Wallaig flew in behind him. “Well—what say you, lad?”
“She accepted me. I spoke to her, Wallaig.”
“Through mind speak?”
“Aye and…goddamn it—I cannae see shite from here.” Angling his wings, Cyprus rocketed into a tight turn. A rogue hissed at him on the fly-by. Cyprus pulled up short and lashed out. His claws struck yellow scales. Blood splattered his forearm. Talons digging deep, he held on, cutting through muscle to reach bone. The rogue squawked. Cyprus revolved into a terrain-blurring spin. On the third revolution, he released the warrior. Unable to control the flight, the male slammed face first into the cliff below Edinburgh Castle. “I need a visual, lads. Now—before Grizgunn gets away.”
“Pale blue scales?” Spiraling into a back flip, Levin sliced through a rogue’s wing with his spiked tail. “I see him.”
“Where?”
“North. The arsehole’s using the fight to cover his retreat.”
His attention snapped left. Cyprus searched the sky north of the city. The downpour blurred the landscape, but…a glimmer of blue shimmered in the storm flash. “Got him. I’m—”
“Go, Cy,” Kruger said, hammering another rogue.
“Retrieve her,” Levin said, seconding his best friend. “We’ve got this.”
Focus locked on Grizgunn, Cyprus disengaged from the fight. He swung north, giving Kruger a wide berth as he took on two rogues at once. “Follow when you’re through.”
“Might be a while,” Wallaig said. “Might have to show the bastards a thing or two. I haven’t had this much fun in years.”
Cyprus snorted, then shook his head. Crazy bastard. His XO never backed away from a fight, but to prolong one? He thought about it a moment. Aye. No question at all. Wallaig wasn’t above playing with his prey before he killed it.
“Oh, and Cyprus?”
“What?”
“Cover yer arse, laddie.” The crack of scales echoed as Wallaig stabbed a rogue with the horn he’d just ripped off the male’s head. “Grab her and go. No heroics without back-up.”
The advice pissed him off.
A bad reaction. Particularly since Wallaig was right.
Hunting alone never amounted to a good idea. Neither did risking a high-energy female. But as he tracked Grizgunn across the rain-soaked sky, over Forth Bridge and into the forest north of the firth, the urge to ignore the rules jabbed at him. He might be commander of the Scottish pack, but he was a male first and foremost. One with the need to protect a female. Possessiveness ate at him. Territorial instinct pointed the way. He wanted the male dead for hurting her. Nothing less than complete annihilation would satisfy him. Not now. Not ever. One way or the other, back-up or nay, he would see her safe, then make Grizgunn pay for daring to take her at all.
Six
The whirl of treetops made Elise’s head spin. The bite mark on her shoulder throbbed, making her wish for a return to numbness. No such luck. Cold air burned across her cheeks, tearing at her hair as pain ripped in waves. The agonizing rush spiked along her spine, colliding with the base of her skull. Squeezing her eyes shut, she struggled to breathe: past the pain, past the panic, past the impossible and the realization she was screwed.
Miles above ground. A sadistic dragon in control. No way to escape. Not enough air in her lungs. No Cyprus in sight.
Tears flooded her eyes. Her bottom lip trembled. Elise shook her head. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. The word ran like a printed column inside a college text book. The never-ending scroll turned litany didn’t help. Her body might be rebelling, struggling to draw oxygen, but her mind worked just fine. She knew where she was—trapped inside a dragon’s paw, razor-edged claws inches from her face. From her chest. From a heart beating too fast to help her think.
With a growl, Grizgunn tightened his grip.
Sharp claws flexed around her. The rip of heavy fabric rent the air a second before pain burst across her back. Warm rivulets rolled beneath her sweater. Swallowing a sob, she reached around to check. Holes in her peacoat. Blood soaking through the cashmere underneath. She pulled the material away from her skin. The sticky sensation set fire to her temper. Goddamn the asshole. He’d just ruined her favorite sweater, which was…absurd. Such a stupid thought given the situation—and the fact she was about to die.
She wanted to scream in outrage anyway.
As ridiculous as it sounded, the ruination of her clothes was more real than the cuts on her skin. She couldn’t face the horror of her injuries. Couldn’t reach out and grab hold of the truth. Her mind rejected reality, forcing her thoughts away from the inevitability of torture into the idiotic. Elise knew it, but didn’t care. She needed the coping mechanism—no matter how farcical—to help her survive a little longer. But as Grizgunn nicked her again, Elise lost control and gave him what he wanted—a whimper of pain.
He laughed, the awful chuckle triumphant.
She contracted into a tighter ball. The flex pressed her knees to her chest as a tear rolled over her cheek, mixing with the rain pelting her through dragon claws. Not knowing what else to do, Elise reached for what she’d sensed inside the church. A lifeline. Cyprus had given her one, helping her stay calm, keeping her fear at bay, feeding her confidence with little more than the sound of his voice. He might not be here now. She might be a breath away from death, but…
She reached for him anyway, seeking solace in the memory. “Cyprus.”
“Here.” The word, driven by a deep growl, tapped her temples. “Brace, talmina.”
She blinked. Brace? For what? Had she really heard that or…
Lightning forked overhead.
Raising her head, Elise peered around Grizgunn’s talons. Nothing. She couldn’t see a—
Grizgunn jerked mid-flight. His horned head whipped around as a black hole opened in the sky behind him. Pale purple eyes flashed inside it, piercing the dark a moment before a flamed lasso shot out of it depths. Rain burned away in a blast of heat. The inferno grabbed Grizgunn by the tail. The loop tightened. The force on the other end of the fiery rope yanked. Grizgunn shrieked as he got dragged backward in mid-air. The violent movement jolted her. Her head whiplashed, slamming her teeth together.
Black spots swam in her vision.
Elise fought stay conscious and, squinting into the gloom, searched the sky. A black dragon with white speckled scales rocketed out of the vortex. Orange wings spread wide, he wound the fire lasso around his fist and yanked again. Grizgunn bucked, trying to sever the leash. The second dragon held firm, reeling Grizgunn in like a fish on the end of a line.
Recognition slammed through her. “Cyprus!”
Huge fangs flashing, he answered with a roar. The ungodly sound ripped at the fabric of sound, making her ears ring and—
Grizgunn panicked.
Monstrous wings flailing, he thrashed, struggling to break free. Fire exploded in a sunburst of flame. The smell of burning flesh permeated the air. She gagged. Cyprus didn’t quit. He kept pulling and, claws deployed, slashed at Grizgunn. Scales cracked. An inferno engulfed the tip of Grizgunn’s tail. He screamed. Dragon blood flew, hitting her like paint spatter as Grizgunn whipped around and, holding her over his horned-head, drew his arm back.
“Nay!” Cyprus lost his grip on the lasso.
With a roar, Grizgunn launched her like a baseball.
Stormy sky raging around her, she left his talon and hurtled into open air. Massive treetops sped beneath her. Like jagged teeth, the rocky terrain rose to meet her. Gravity did the rest, dragging her toward the ground. Further away from Cyprus, and a thousand steps closer to death.
Seven
The instant Grizgunn threw the female, Cyprus opened his talon and let his prey go. His claws scraped over the bastard’s scales. The fire lasso disintegrated, snapping its tail as magic whiplashed inside his mind. So unsatisfying. Goddamn frustrating. He wanted to make the male to scream some more, but—
He couldn’t take his eyes off the woman.
She was everything. The answer to a lifetime of loneliness.
Presumptuous? Probably, but Cyprus didn’t care. Prudent or not, he allowed hope free reign and hunted for her instead, seeking the glow of her aura amid dark storm clouds. Rain slashed at him. Thunder boomed, rattling his scales. A second later lightning forked overhead. The bright flash lit up the night sky. He caught a glimpse of her blonde hair.
Tucked in a small ball, wet tendrils whipping around her head, she plummeted, her bio-energy a beacon in the dark. Half hanging onto Grizgunn, he shoved his enemy one way and dove the other. His night vision sparked. He narrowed his field of sight, refusing to lose her in the storm. Thick clouds billowed up and out. She disappeared into the swirl. He lost sight of her again and—gone. She was simply gone, falling faster than he could track her.
Concentrating, he fine-tuned his sonar. A ping sounded inside his head and…
She reappeared on his radar.
His eyes narrowed. Shite. Not good. The wind buffeted her, rushing her toward the ground. Panic made him fold his wings and become an arrow, his target the bio-energy she carried like a tracking device. He needed to intercept her while he still held a chance of pulling up. If he didn’t, he’d hit the ground right along with her. He rechecked his position. Bloody hell. She was falling too fast, dropping like a stone, shifting in and out of his line of vision.
With a growl, Cyprus spiraled toward the ground. The storm hampered his vision, slowing his speed. Reaching deep, he summoned more magic. Her bio-energy flared in his mind’s eye. His scales caught fire, flickering over the spikes along his spine. Inferno-like heat spread. He ignored the light show. The flash’n-fly didn’t matter. With his dragon half raging, flames were par for the course. His beast liked the blaze and his body needed the extra magic. Like rocket fuel, it propelled him forward, increasing his velocity, cranking his sonar to maximum levels.
A faint blimp echoed between his temples.
Cyprus snarled in satisfaction as he reacquired his target, locking on to her bio-energy and—there. Right fucking there. Directly below him, falling through thick clouds and punishing rain.
Pushing himself to the brink, he raced to intercept her.
Cold air lashed over the horns on his head. A white jet stream whistled from the tip of his bladed tail. Approaching treetops helped him triangulate. Her life force burst through the heavy clouds, making his mind burn and his senses seethe. Hooked onto the signal, he tracked her without seeing her. The chaotic beat of her heart battered him, scraping along his already frayed nerve ending. Concern for her gripped him. She was past panic, well into terror, in danger of having a heart attack. Another bolt of lightning and…shite. He was in trouble: off course, too far east of her position. The howling winds shoved him farther afield with each new gust.
Frustration combined with fear. Jesus help him. He was close enough to see her now, but still too far to catch her before she collided with jagged rocks below, unless he did something stupid. Something unsafe, for the second time in one night.
One foray into the magical chasm—when he’d chased down Grizgunn—his dragon could handle. Entering into the time-space continuum for a second time in less than an hour might well kill him, but—Cyprus bared his fangs—fuck it. He couldn’t let her go. Refused to leave her to the fall and himself to the merciless twist of fate.
Ignoring the danger, Cyprus aligned with aerodynamics. A strong updraft hammered him. He called on his magic. The powerful surge streamed into his mind. He grabbed hold, looping it over and around him. Fire swirled into a funnel. Opening his wings, he banked hard. A loud boom exploded around him. Heavy clouds disappeared. The wind died and the sky warped, ripping a wormhole into the fabric of space and time.
Note wasting a second, Cyprus sliced through the gateway.
Magic howled a warning. His dragon flinched.
Cyprus ignored the beast. No time to waste. He needed a miracle, and as taut muscles twisted around his bones, he sent a prayer heavenward, beseeching the Goddess of All
Things. He wasn’t a weak male. Hell, he was stronger than most, but faced with failure, he didn’t know what else to do. Here, right now, he needed her help. He didn’t deserve it. Wasn’t arrogant enough to believe she’d answer his plea, but he prayed she would listen.
“Please,” he murmured. “She’s mine. I need her.”
As if in an
swer, the pressure inside the vortex increased. Speed went supersonic. Pain pressed down his spine, compressed his rib cage, threatening him with suffocation. Absorbing the agony, he spiraled into darkness flecked with swirling stars. He murmured a thank you to the goddess and honed in on the female’s location in the night sky. A gamble. Nothing but a guess, but as the walls inside the corridor flexed, he let his magic unfurl, hunting for her signal in the real world, beyond his position inside the continuum.
The wormhole tunneled in front of him.
As the walls contracted, Cyprus held his breath and braced for impact.
The fire circle reformed.
Sparks blazing from his scales, Cyprus shot back into the here and now. In full tantrum, the storm raged, lashing him with a weather-fueled whip. He sucked in a deep breath and, with a quick flip, reoriented himself in the sky. Where the fuck was he? He blinked to clear his blurry vision and…okay. All right. Good to go. He was in reverse position, his back to the ground, wings still tucked to his sides, clouds above him. Letting himself fall he waited, searching for her. Please God, let him be in the right position. Let him be—
A soft glow flashed above him.
The powerful pull of her bio-energy slammed through him.
Cyprus growled in triumph. His gamble had paid off. He was right where he needed to be and now, locked on target. Unaware of his presence, she fell toward him. He kept his eyes on her and counted out the seconds. Time to intercept: three, two—
Thunder boomed overhead. Another flash of lightning.
One!
He heard her hitching sob a second before he reached out. The tip of his claw snagged her coattail. He pulled her sideways in mid-air. Fabric ripped, splitting up the seam. She squeaked, flinching as he reeled her in and checked her vitals. Eyes squeezed shut. Bio-energy throbbing. Whole body trembling. Petrified, but still breathing.
“Easy, talmina.” Pulling her closer, he spread his wings, slowing his flight, and settled her against his chest. “Easy.”
Fury of Shadows: Dragonfury Series: SCOTLAND #2 Page 4
